


Elegy of a Broken Tempest

by ChoklettHartz



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Action, Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dante and Nero are distantly related in this, Depression, Drama, Eventual Smut, Follows Old Canon, Grief/Mourning, Intrigue, Lots of Original Characters - Freeform, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Vergil/OC, Pining, Romance, Scenting, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Very Very Slow Burn, Wet Dream, more tags to come, past trauma, takes place after dmc4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChoklettHartz/pseuds/ChoklettHartz
Summary: Years after the events of Mallet Island, Quin is still trying to move on from the loss of his mate. Now, he meets an old acquaintance who makes a tempting proposition. Meanwhile, Nero is still struggling with his newfound demon traits and Dante isn’t helping. Inevitably, their paths collide for better or for worse.Given the chance, how far would a demon go for love; how far would a human go?
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry), Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Omens

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to check those tags before you read! They will likely be adjusted with every chapter. 
> 
> Much of this story is already complete/set in stone. A new chapter will be uploaded every other Saturday.
> 
> Finally sharing this fic that I've been working on for a long time. If you've read my other works, you may recognize Quin (Quintus), my OC! Here is one of his stories, and it is a loooong ride. This story follows old canon and takes place after the events of Devil May Cry 4 though there is slight overlap in this first chapter.

Classic rock and roll music warbled from the dusty stereo of the old, beaten up sedan as it trundled down a scorching, cracked road that was framed by endless miles of wilting, yellow fields. The sun baked right through the roof of the car and into the scratchy upholstery, making Quin grimace as he re-tied his long, black hair. He had tried to roll down the passenger window earlier, but decided against it when the dust nearly choked him, and now said window was stuck at a few inches open. Great.

“Hey, Quin, thanks for coming out,” Joshua said over the cacophony that was his car’s engine, the frazzled music, and the rattle of firearms in the back seat. “And sorry for having you travel so far. There aren't enough devil hunters in this country yet. By the time I realized how bad the problem was, there was no way the rookies could handle it."

“It’s alright,” Quin muttered as he squinted and leaned away from the stale wind that was blowing across his face. Photos of Joshua and his fiance, Emily, clung to the dashboard by meager pieces of tape, flapping under the wind from the windows and the air conditioning. “What are we dealing with this time?”

"From the reports I've gotten, an infestation of scarecrows."

“That’s unfortunate,” Quin sighed.

Joshua snorted in response. “Unfortunate for the people that have to deal with them, or unfortunate because they’re boring for you?”

“The latter, of course, unless there’s a swarm.”

“Hey, hey, let’s not be biting off more than we can chew.”

“More than _you_ can chew, you mean.”

“Yeah, I’m not an all powerful demon like you, alright?”

Quin scoffed at “all powerful demon”. He certainly didn’t feel that way. Before he could make a comment, the hairs along his arms pricked up uncomfortably. He turned towards the awful wind again, staring with narrowed eyes towards the swollen, black bottom clouds that hung motionless like the aftermath of gallows in the sky.

“What is it?” Joshua asked with a glance in his direction as the silence lingered in the air.

“There’s been an increase in demonic activity lately.” 

Quin, Joshua, and some of their other devil hunter acquaintances had their hands full for the past month. Not only were there more appearances, the demons themselves seemed more restless as if in anticipation for something, waiting with ill intentioned patience. Dread churned in his stomach.

"Huh, Lady was complaining about that to me earlier this week."

Quin looked at him, eyebrows raised. "The one that works with Devil May Cry?" 

"Yeah. I think she was going to Fortuna to investigate. She thinks something fishy is going on."

“Fortuna…” Quin stared blankly through the windshield. That island was where the Hellgate was sealed. He hadn’t been to the town in centuries. “When was this?”

“When was what?”

“Lady telling you about Fortuna.”

“Uh, a few days ago, I think,” Joshua said as he scratched the side of his beard. 

Quin didn’t think it was likely that the Hellgate would be opened considering the amount of power required to do so, not to mention Yamato itself… He stubbornly blocked off that train of thought and sighed. Regardless, it was still a good idea to check up on the island after this job.

As the road curved towards the Northeast, a small town came into view with a handful of houses and stores dotting the horizon. The residents that had survived the attacks had evacuated while a few of the local police, who were brave enough, stayed back for any stragglers. Upon reaching the outskirts of the town, Joshua exchanged a few words with the sheriff, then drove towards the heart of the wreckage while relaying details to Quin. The weary officers had stayed by the main road, far from the empty streets of broken down buildings that had been devastated by demon attacks. There were splatters of blood, broken glass, and odorous black muck streaked along the streets and walls. 

“A lot of heavily injured, only a couple casualties. Could be worse…” Joshua said as he pulled to the side of the road and cut the engine.

Quin winced as the car door screeched open. "Really, when are you getting a new car? Not just the door. The engine is obnoxiously loud as well. If you want I could fix it up for you."

"Heh, since when were you a car mechanic?" Joshua grinned as he grabbed a few guns from the back seat, tightened his vest, and slung his battle axe over his back. Quin settled for a pistol. Though he often carried knives with him, he doubted he would need them.

"Since they were invented." 

Joshua shook his head as he locked the car and pocketed his keys. They walked out into the street, surveying the deep gashes in the buildings and trails of a black substance that reeked of brimstone. Quin smelled human and demon blood in the air. He focused his senses, seeking out traces of demonic energy and came to a stop several yards away from a church.

“They’re in here. Scarecrows,” he called out and added to himself, “I don’t like churches.”

“What, you allergic?” Joshua chuckled. 

Quin rolled his eyes. “No. I just don’t like them.” He had visited plenty over the years out of curiosity and the only ones he liked were the pretty cathedrals with all the art and maybe the homey abandoned ones. He followed as Joshua stalked towards the rotting doors. 

“What’s the plan?”

“Do we need one?”

“Guess not,” Joshua said with a shrug as Quin entered first without hesitation. 

Pews were scattered, upturned and crawling with black beetle larvae the size of tennis balls. The cross was broken and smashed over the bloodied altar. Quin walked forward silently as his partner coughed at the pungent stench of rotting flesh. Flies buzzed around a broken pew that covered most of an unidentifiable corpse slathered in black muck and maggots.

"Ugh... Poor guy," Joshua muttered. 

Quin continued past it and stood near the altar, relaxed and listening closely through the sounds of scuttling beatles and creaking wood. A mass of demonic energy writhed throughout the building. He felt it as clear as if it were a thick smog before him. Without a glance, he raised his gun and shot the first scarecrow demon that careened out of the rafters at him. 

"This could be fun," he said quietly. Several more crashed in through the windows, joining those that dropped down from above. "Hmph. Just as ugly as always." They were burlap sacks bloated with demon beetles, haphazardly sewn together with oversized blades. Cackling with glee, they tottered forward on stick legs. Joshua brandished his weapons and backed up towards Quin. 

“We're surrounded." 

"A most unfavorable position to be in with scarecrows." 

The beasts swung their blades in a swaying dance, sneering in pinched voices. Quin sidestepped one and took a hold of its bladed leg, tearing it off and slicing its remains in half.

"So, what are we… Did you just rip that off of that one?" Joshua pointed between the large sickle shaped blade and the slain demon. Quin blinked and nodded. "You never fail to amaze me."

"Why, thank you. You flatter me, dear." He grinned as he dodged another scarecrow and promptly chopped it in half. "Let's get out in the open." 

He cut a path for them and kicked out the doors into the street. The demons swarmed after them and they shot several down before Joshua drew his battle axe and Quin brandished the stolen bladed leg. As they fought Quin focused his senses and searched for what could be causing the dense demonic aura. He could handle the scarecrows with his eyes closed, but Joshua mostly certainly couldn't fight so many. 

He found a familiar energy, like a gold thread brushing the back of his mind, and latched onto it. Glancing around the streets with surprise, he realized they were near the site of a demon artifact he had sealed away long ago. The place had changed a lot over the centuries. Guiding Joshua and breaking through more demons, they made their way towards the edge of the town where an unkempt field stretched wide and tall between farmlands. A mega scarecrow that was twice their size and laced with blades leaped onto the road before they could get to the field.

"Just one? That's a shame," Quin said.

"Hey, I'm pretty damn tired. Not as young as I used to be."

"You're hardly thirty. You have plenty of time to complain about age." Other scarecrows hobbled behind them, their numbers dwindling. "I'll take the big one."

"All yours." 

The mega scarecrow clicked its blades excitedly. It bounced, rolled itself into a ball of razors, and zipped at Quin. He simply stepped to the side and in the same motion thrust out the scarecrow blade he had been using, catching its spinning blades and sending the demon off its course. It flopped and wobbled unsteadily on its blade legs. Shaking his head with a sigh, Quin proceeded to dash towards it and hack it to pieces. He leaned away as the last spinning blade flew past his head and the large demon dispersed into ash. Splattered before his feet was a lovely painting of hydrangea flowers in the demon’s blood. It had become a habit since the old days, but he didn’t bother admiring his works anymore.

As he straightened up, time seemed to slow to a crawl as an unsettling chill ran up his spine, heart suddenly pounding at a familiar powerful surge of demonic energy springing up in the back of his senses like the far off echo of a fearsome roar. He dropped his blade and his hand flew to his neck, sliding under the scarf. Though the skin there didn’t feel any different from the usual scar tissue, there was no way he could mistake that energy. The Hellgate had been opened. And the only way it could be opened was if Yamato was in the human world and intact. His heartbeat was slow and heavy in his ears.

"Quin!" A bullet shot past him and into a scarecrow behind him. He snapped his gaze up and tackled Joshua out of the way of a scarecrow blade aimed at his head. Rolling to his feet, Quin grabbed Joshua's axe and killed the demon all in one flourish. "You okay?" Joshua asked with alarm as he jumped to his feet as well.

"Yes," Quin replied with a frown. "You know that wouldn’t have killed me.”

“Sheesh, sorry for being worried,” Joshua grumbled as he eyed the scarecrows nearby.

Quin rolled his eyes. How unnecessary. “There aren't many left. Let's finish this up."

The scarecrows seemed even more agitated than before, though distracted as well and quickly thinning out in number. Since there was no spawn, they cleared out the demons without too much difficulty, but Quin could still feel the energy from the demonic artifact that would tempt demons to gather there.

They returned to the car, leaning against it as they took a break. Quin looked around the deserted street, distracted. The scarecrow threat was tempered for the time being, and he would have to check up on the sealed artifact nearby, but there were other matters on his mind: the Hellgate opening and the implications.

"So uh… You okay? What happened earlier?" Joshua asked as he attempted to scrub the demon guts from his vest.

“I’m not entirely sure…” Quin looked at his reflection in a piece of broken glass nearby, as if he could see the scar through the bundled silk scarf around his neck. “The Hellgate has been opened.”

"Hellgate?" Joshua's eyes bugged. "That sounds bad. Really bad."

Quin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, well, you said Devil May Cry might be on it right?”

“Er… Well maybe. Can they really handle it? I mean I’ve heard rumors about the devil hunter, Dante...”

Quin scoffed reflexively and turned away from Joshua’s curious look. Of course, the great son of Sparda, Dante, would probably be able to handle it. Still, it was best if he checked up on it personally.

“Anyways. We cleared out the demons for now, but they might return. I’ll wrap things up maybe an hour after nightfall.”

“That long? What are you doing?”

“Safety measures.”

“O...kay.” Joshua shrugged. Quin always appreciated that Joshua could tell when he didn’t want to answer questions. “I’ll talk with the sheriff and park the car at the corner where we came in.”

Quin nodded and headed off into the overgrown field where the sun was like a bloody eye melting into the earth, feeding the shadows and finally relieving the world of its unbearable heat. He walked towards it for several minutes, taking his time as he waited for night to rise, as the seal on the artifact would only react then. Finally he stopped by an abandoned well and sat down on the edge. He had placed a charm on it many years ago to dissuade humans from coming near it.

In addition to his own magic, he could feel the lingering remains of demonic energy, and more importantly, the general disturbance caused by the Hellgate hundreds of miles away. There was no mistaking it. 

Again, Quin felt under his scarf and around the chain of his locket for the spot on his neck where the mate mark had been marred, the bond severed. Was it possible that his mate was alive? _Vergil…_ The thought made his heart pound, startlingly, as if the feeble little thing hadn’t beat in years. Hope and trepidation shot through his blood, stifling oxygen, making him light headed. Could he even face Vergil again? Did he know that Quin was unable to return to him, or did he believe he had been purposefully left behind? Sometimes Quin couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fault that Temen-Ni-Gru had been opened. 

He closed his eyes, breathing steadily in and out, willing the flood of emotions to stay in check. Readjusting his scarf, he noticed how shaky his hands were and sighed. These musings were meaningless until he investigated Fortuna and judged from there whether or not his hopes were indeed wistful. He ought to know better than to get ahead of himself. There were important matters at hand, in particular checking the seals on this artifact.

Coming out of his musings, dusk had settled, darkness swallowing the last traces of sunlight, clouds cutting off any stars that might try to illuminate the sky. He breathed in the air of the fields which still had a slight tint of brimstone, and felt the magic seals waning as he swung his legs over the side of the well and dropped down with the ease of a cat. Demonic energy hummed under his fingers as he tapped on a few stones in a portion of the wall, and muttered a spell under his breath. A section crumbled away, releasing a sulfuric stench and revealing a narrow passageway. 

He ducked his head and made his way down the sloping tunnel which had purple glowing runes sprawling across every surface like weeds. The tunnel stretched up towards the end so that Quin was able to stand up straight before a circular stone door. There were glyphs around the door, circling thirteen blackened paper talismans in the center. Just as he had suspected, the seal he had placed was weakening. 

But more than that, something was strange about the surface. Quin’s eyes narrowed as he skimmed his fingertips over the stone, tracing over tracks of charcoal and dust. It was barely discernible, but he could sense an unfamiliar presence. Had someone come here? Though the thought engendered some disquiet, the seals weren’t broken and that was the most important thing.

He raised his hand to his mouth, sliced his thumb across one of his fangs, and used his blood to draw a symbol across the stone. The glyphs flashed red then disappeared, the talismans ignited to ash, and the stone door split down the middle, each half rolling away and catching in the sides of the tunnel.

A small nook in the wall was revealed which had a stone shelf holding an athame. It was a dagger with a black handle and a curved blade that was grooved to hold blood. Quin had used it two thousand years ago to seal away the weapons of the high devil lords, The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. He picked up the athame by the handle and weighed it in his hand, considering his options. He didn’t have the necessary components to remake a proper seal, but he couldn’t just leave it here now to attract more demons and possibly fall into the wrong hands. With a tired sigh, he pocketed the athame and left the tunnel.

All was quiet in the fields and deserted streets as Quin walked through the pitch-black town to a singular source of light emanating from the front steps of a small office building. There, the town’s police had gathered and Joshua was making a report to the sheriff. The sounds of ringing phones, chatter, and paper greeted him at the door. Several officers glanced up as he walked by the temporarily set up desks, most of them quickly ducking away nervously. Just as Quin was about to ask for the sheriff’s office, Joshua walked out of a door at the end of the open hall.

“Hey, nice timing,” he said as he met him in the center.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just finished letting the sheriff know that the demons have been handled, and gave some advice on how to clean up and respond to any potential future threats.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Quin said in a deadpan tone.

“Well, I figured it’s the right thing to do.”

A young officer who was leaning against a desk, curled over a broken arm, looked up at Quin and gasped. “Y-you’re one of the devil hunters, right? Thank you, so much. Thank-”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Quin said as he held up his hand and headed for the exit. “Not for you personally, anyway.”

Joshua gave the young man a sheepish smile and followed Quin outside towards the car parked across the street. The night was eerily quiet, lacking the usual night critters, the air stale despite the fading demon stench. 

“What _do_ you do it for anyway?” Joshua asked.

“Hm?”

“The demon hunting and all. I mean, I don’t mean to pry. Just curious-”

“Keeping a promise of sorts,” Quin said as he stopped at the driver’s side of the car. It wasn’t like he made an explicit promise to Sparda, but after all the Hell they literally went through, staving off the end of humanity whenever a threat arose was the least he could do.

“Huh… Wait, I can drive.”

“Rest. I’ll drive.” 

“You sure?”

“I’m not tired,” Quin insisted as he got in the driver’s seat. 

“Alright, well, thanks.”

Once the doors were shut, they pulled out into the street and headed towards the exit of the town. Joshua changed the topic which Quin was thankful for. In the two years since he had woken from his self-exile, Joshua was one of the few humans whose company he appreciated. Despite knowing each other for some time, Quin still wasn’t keen on sharing more than necessary, and Joshua respected that. 

“I’ll let everyone else know about how there’s been more demons. Keep them on alert. Actually, you know anything that I should know about- Jesus!” Joshua nearly ran into the windshield as Quin suddenly slammed on the brakes. “What the-?”

“Hellgate’s been closed,” Quin said, almost to himself as he focused on the sudden shift in demonic energy that was like a ripple across the world and reverberating in his bones. He was surprised. As powerful as Dante may be, the Hellgate had been taken care of much more quickly than he expected.

“Oh, well good? Problem solved?” Joshua eased back in his seat. “Could give a little warning next time.”

Quin glanced at him and frowned. “Seatbelt.”

Joshua gaped at him indignantly. “You’re the one- ah, nevermind,” he grumbled as he clicked his seatbelt while Quin sped off again. They hit the freeway which was pitchblack in every direction, and set the radio to a low hum while Joshua made some phone calls to other devil hunters. 

While Quin drove, he tried to focus on his breath and keep his pounding heart steady. It was difficult to keep his mind from running wild at the abnormality that was the Hellgate opening and closing within such a short time frame. He supposed Dante just handled it efficiently, but he couldn’t help thinking up more possibilities. Fantasies of Vergil alive and well, coming back to him. Quin pinched the bridge of his nose with a small huff of frustration. How many times had he gone through these scenarios. No matter what he was sensing now, he couldn’t get carried away so easily.

What was more concrete in the moment was the athame he recovered. He couldn’t be sure, but when he was in the cavern it seemed like there were traces of someone else disturbing the place not too long ago. The athame was key to unsealing powerful devil arms. Even so, Quin wasn’t too worried as breaking those seals required his blood in conjunction with the athame. He was, however, more concerned about the fact that the seals were weakening in time with the opening of the Hellgate. It could be entirely coincidence, it could be that all seals were weakening since Sparda’s disappearance, or it could be indicative of some other concentrated campaign.

Before he could give it more thought, a sense of danger sparked in the back of his mind, and Quin swerved to dodge a fireball shot from behind, throwing Joshua, cursing, against the door. “Geez, what now?” 

“A pyrobat,” Quin said with narrowed eyes. Were they after the athame, attracted to it like the scarecrow demons were? A loud shriek chased after them and he swerved again from another fireball which illuminated the sky just enough in the rear mirror for him to catch a glance. “Quite a large one, too. Can you handle it?”

“I can’t see in the dark!”

“Neither can I.”

“You have other heightened senses, don’t you?”

Quin chuckled. “Fine.” He tried bringing down the window, but it caught just a few inches down, not low enough for him to reach out. “Take the wheel, won’t you?” He said as he grabbed the pistol from Joshua’s holster and opened the door.

“Wha- Hey!” Joshua lunged over to steady the wheel. “Why are you speeding up!?”

“Relax,” Quin said as he leaned out and peered into the darkness. He could barely make out the shape of the bat, but the sound of its flapping wings were crystal clear in the wind. There were two others close behind it. He fired two bullets which the bat easily dodged.

“I can’t keep this up forever!” Joshua yelled.

Rolling his eyes, Quin fired off a few more bullets towards the other bats, herding them towards the first one which was glowing as it prepared another fireball. Quin lowered his gun and summoned his power into a ghostly white jian which he sent out faster than a bullet, piercing the fiery bat so that it exploded and set the other two bats aflame. With wailing shrieks, the bats tumbled from the air. Quin breathed in deeply, sensed their life forces were extinguished, then settled back in his seat, and shut the door. He took the wheel while Joshua rubbed his face and sighed with relief.

“I don’t know if I should demand more pay, or pay you more to not do stuff like that.”

“Aren’t you glad I reminded you of your seatbelt?”

“Shut up. Just drive.”

The rest of the trip was largely uneventful. Quin soothed out his nerves in the process, reminding himself to think rationally. He would wrap things up by stopping by his base of operations, so to speak, where he kept most of his personal belongings in the home of an old friend. Among various spell components he’d also pick up his trusty sword, a jian he had crafted centuries ago while fighting alongside some devil hunters. Though it was not his true devil sword, it would be more than enough to deal with any wannabe demon lord that had their eyes on the athame. He’d reseal the dagger after luring out and killing whatever was trying to get their claws on it. That was all straightforward. 

And like a persistent parasite, thoughts of the Hellgate, Yamato, and Vergil wormed back into his mind. Did he dare to hope his mate had returned? Even while possibilities flashed behind his eyes, a dark voice cut across, hissing that it was meaningless, Vergil wasn’t coming back. 

But maybe he was just far away, and Quin couldn’t sense him due to their severed bond. 

Even if he was back, Vergil surely didn’t care for him anymore.

What was the point of such silly pondering fueled by baseless emotional irrationality? Quin suppressed a low irritated growl and turned up the music over Joshua’s snores. If there was a chance, he’d take it. Simple as that.

  


* * *

  


Mauvent stood before an ornate, heavy, oak door, trembling more than the flickering shadows cast on the stone walls by the foul smelling torches. He glanced furtively at the two guards by the door who were cloaked in the usual red robes like the rest of the demons in the stronghold. Their beady reptilian eyes stared straight ahead, still as statues. Of course they wouldn’t spare him a glance. Even the less rigid demons acted like Mauvent didn’t exist. He was afterall amongst the lowest and had a history of treachery. Finally the door opened and a demon in similar red robes stepped out.

“Lord Cassius will see you now.”

With hunched shoulders, Mauvent scuffled past the threshold and into a large round room that was fashioned much like something of a human’s office. He had been there a few times and it was largely unchanged. The walls were lined with shelves full of artifacts and wiccan materials. There were horns of demons, eyes, blood, powders, herbs, tomes, weapons, among many other items. In the center was a large desk, a chair, and behind that a fireplace where Mauvent’s eyes were drawn. 

A large man was facing away from him, warming his hands at the fire. He wore a white suit and his blonde hair was combed neatly. A convincing human disguise.

“M-My Lord,” Mauvent said in a reedy voice. 

The man turned around, acidic green eyes fixing on Mauvent. He smiled genially. Firelight glinted off his smooth white teeth.

“What news, Mauvent?” he asked, his deep voice rolling like thunder.

“What you have predicted has come true, My Lord. T-The Hellgate has been opened and…”

“And it was closed quite quickly, yes. I doubt we’ll get many more to join our ranks, but that is all fine. The gate was in fact opened by Yamato, correct?”

“Y-Yes, it was.” Mauvent hesitated, heart pounding with dread. Cassius had been secretive on the details of his plan to lead himself and his followers to greater power over other factions. “If I may be presumptuous, My Lord… Why the interest in Yamato?” Mauvent peered apprehensively up at the devil lord whose smile showed just a few too many teeth, and eyes were piercing with calculation.

“I believe we might find the old friend I have been searching for.”

Sweat beaded across Mauvent’s brow. He could feel the blood quickly draining from his already pallid face. With a near audible gulp, he blurted out, “My Lord, this old friend of yours-”

“Is an old friend of yours as well,” Cassius said, still smiling. “Silver Gale.” 

Mauvent felt his heart nearly stop as cold fear shot through his bones. Cassius chuckled. 

“Are you really so afraid of him?”

“W-Well, he… He’d probably-”

“Kill you? Likely, yes. You did betray him after all. He is a fearsome devil. Most don’t know it or underestimate him. That is why he would be a valuable ally.”

“Surely, there are other options?” Mauvent nearly whimpered desperately.

“I need something very specific from him,” Cassius said with a shake of his head. He regarded Mauvent with an amused gleam in his eyes. “Tell me, Mauvent. Do you believe Silver Gale could defeat me right now? Are you afraid I can offer you no protection? Speak plainly.”

“M-My Lord, it is hard to say,” Mauvent stammered, shrinking in on himself. That was the thing about Silver Gale. It wasn’t just his immense fighting prowess. It was his sheer determination to make his will reality that defined his power. If the Dark Knight was the sword that cut down Mundus, Silver Gale was the shield that guided that strike.

“I am well aware of how formidable he is. Even after all these years in the human world, I suspect his skills have not deteriorated. And so having him on our side is much more preferable than antagonizing him.” He chuckled at Mauvent’s frantic gaze. “Fear not. I won’t be giving him your life. I will offer him something very dear that he has lost.”

Mauvent wanted to ask what exactly it was that could sway Silver Gale, but his tongue was too heavy to form words and swollen from biting it nervously. 

“Listen closely,” Cassius said. “I have some tasks for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First impressions? Leave a comment below~ Dante and Nero will be coming up in the next chapter ;)
> 
> Even though this story is going through final edits, I would still love feedback! I am still looking for a beta reader. If you are interested, please let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Red Trails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of those situations where I want to make something better, but then I worry that I'll just make it worse. So here's Chapter 2 before I decide to do something drastic lol. While I don't think the tags have changed much yet, remember to always check them!
> 
> Again, a new chapter will be added every two weeks, usually Saturdays!

Duffel bag in hand, Nero stepped out onto the platform of Capulet City Train Station. He took a deep breath and followed the bustling crowd of people entering and leaving, glancing around as he went. Brick walls stretched up to a high arched glass ceiling that let in a brilliant sunny sky. Despite the bright sun, it would be chilly when he got outside. He tugged his red wool scarf higher around his chin. It was a parting gift from Kyrie.

Not for the first time since he set out, he wondered just what the hell was he doing? It had been barely ten days since the Hellgate opened and wreaked havoc in the city. Ten days since he found out about the corruption that tainted the Order of the Sword. Sure, Nero never really fit in. If the Order was anything like a family, it was a dysfunctional family. But it was something, and he left that behind. 

Nero couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he had left. One of the reasons was the townspeople for sure. Even if he did save their sorry asses, they seemed to regard him with even more fear and disdain than before. The other reason-- that was frankly, louder and more annoying-- was his goddamn demonic side. He wasn't entirely sure if it was a voice, more like a presence in the back of his mind. For the most part, he blocked it out like a constant static in the background, and he would have been fine dealing with it until just about a week ago. 

Kyrie had tried to kiss him during a night out and before he realized it, he was shoving her away with wide eyes. His inner demon had expressed absolute disgust, which Nero tried to hide as he spluttered out an excuse and left her standing alone at the pier. Even though she had told him it was okay and that she was understanding, he could see the confusion and hurt in her eyes. And then on top of all that his demon had become increasingly restless, keeping him awake day and night and urging him to get out of town. So here he was in Capulet City of all places going on his soul searching and abandoning Kyrie. Yup. He was an asshole.

With a sigh, he shook his head and walked up to a cork board that held various maps and pamphlets and sifted through a rough outline of the city, though he wasn’t really expecting to find much. Devil May Cry wasn't exactly a tourist attraction. After half an hour of wandering the city and asking around without meaningful results, Nero found himself frustrated and plopping down at a booth in an old fashioned diner. 

It sported the classic look of black and white checkered flooring and red booths and stools. The walls were lined with either large windows or vintage posters. Nero leaned on his elbows as he scanned the collection and tried to identify a few familiar looking band logos. It was pretty neat. He rarely saw anything like it in Fortuna.

“Hey, Dante! The usual-- oh?” A waitress in roller skates came to a stop at his table. “Oh, sorry about that. Thought you were someone else. Name’s Cindy. What can I get you?”

Nero sat up straighter with renewed hope. “Wait, you just said Dante, right?”

“Yeah, the guy that’ll do any odd job, or so he says. You know him?”

“Uh, kind of,” Nero brushed his nose, unsure if they were talking about the same person. “You know where I can find him?”

She gave him instructions that were much clearer than any he had gotten so far which he hoped was a good sign. Then he flipped through the menu and, deciding he wasn’t that hungry, settled for a regular burger and a strawberry sundae.

Cindy giggled as she took his menu. “Dante always gets the strawberry sundae,” she said as she skated away.

“Really?” Nero mumbled, unsure of whether or not he was surprised. At a first glance a guy like Dante didn’t seem like a sweet tooth type. He supposed he didn’t know much about the devil hunter in red. Even more strange as to why Nero was here. He reminded himself it was because he didn’t know anyone else outside of Fortuna. He glanced outside at the cobblestone streets that were lined with people who appeared to be from various walks of life based on the variety of clothing and age that he saw. Well, he was here now. Might as well make the most of it.

He didn’t have to wait long for his food and although he wanted to ask Cindy a few more questions, she had other customers to tend to. The burger and sundae were good enough that he made a mental note to come back again, and after eating quickly, he continued on his search. 

In a few minutes, he found himself standing before a building wedged amongst several others in a corner. Above double doors was a neon red sign that read: _Devil May Cry_. Apprehension suddenly crept up on him as he stood there in the mostly empty street. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was so nervous about. His demon stirred as well like a beast prowling along unknown territory, and he caught himself subconsciously sniffing the air. He cursed inwardly and shoved the doors open.

The first thing that he noticed was a faint scent, spiced and musky, to which his demonic side identified as the heart of a powerful devil’s lair. The second thing was the underworldly presence of one that was not Dante.

“Welcome to Devil May Cry,” said a familiar blonde woman who was lining up a shot at a pool table towards the left. “Oh, Nero, right?” She smiled upon seeing him.

“Yeah. Trish?” He tried putting on a nonchalant air even though he couldn’t help feeling a little nervous. Most of his interactions with her were when she was in disguise. At a brief glance of the office, he saw that it was messy with pizza boxes and beer cans on just about every surface: on a large desk in the center, side tables, couches. Various devil arms hung along the walls, doing little to hide the peeling wallpaper.

“That’s me. Nice to see you again. How have you been?”

“Fine. I just needed to… get out for a while.”

Trish chuckled knowingly, though what she knew about him exactly, Nero couldn’t say. “Well, if you’re looking for Dante, he’s out on a mission. Emergency call back. Should be back in a day or so.”

“Oh, okay…” Nero felt an unexpected twinge of disappointment in his stomach and firmly shut out the demonic grumbling in his head.

“Make yourself at home. How’s Fortuna?” Trish asked as she chalked her cue stick.

Nero set down his duffle bag near the couch and walked up to the table. “Other than being a pile of rubble trying to recover from Hell, just great. Not all that different than before.”

Trish gave him a little smirk. “Still prudish people?”

“Heh. Yeah, basically.”

“And how’s your girl?”

Nero’s heart skipped, unprepared for the question. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Kyrie? Uh, we’re fine.” He wondered if Trish noticed his grimace because she simply nodded and handed him a second cue stick.

“Up for a game?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“So then. What are your plans now?” Trish asked as she set up the pool balls. Nero was thankful for the change in subject, but admittedly, he wasn’t sure what his plans were.

“I’m figuring that out... Guess I’ll need to find a place to stay first.”

“You’re in luck,” Trish said. “I’m in the process of moving out, so there’ll be a spare room here soon.”

“Oh,” Nero blinked as he felt a sudden pang of jealousy and his demon side growling in the back of his mind. What the hell? Why did he care who the old man lived with? “You lived, er, live here?”

“Mhm. I should have everything moved out in a few days, but it’s pretty cluttered at the moment, so you’ll have to take the couch. I’m sure Dante won’t mind.”

“Er… Thanks,” Nero mumbled as he scratched the tip of his nose. 

“No problem, kiddo,” she said, laughing lightly at his responding blush.

Much to his relief, Trish was easy to talk to, and having something to do with his hands always soothed his nerves. Though he had never played before, he picked up on it fairly quickly.

“I assume you’re probably going to want work while you’re here,” Trish said in a friendly tone as she chalked her cue again.

“Yeah,” Nero said earnestly. He had no intention of being a freeloader. “You guys are a demon hunting business right?”

“Yes, we are. I would say Dante could show you the ropes, but on second thought you might be better off figuring it out yourself.”

“Heh, it’s what The Order’s been doing for years. I’m pretty sure I can deal with whatever the usual is.” The crack of the pool balls was satisfying as they ricocheted and tumbled into the pockets.

“I don’t doubt that you can kill demons. That much is obvious. I meant the whole business side.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not complicated. Just don’t destroy too much public property.”

Nero laughed, thinking of the remains of Fortuna. “Yeah, no promises.”

Trish sighed. “Well. Can’t be much worse than Dante.”

“You make him sound like a kid,” Nero said with a grin.

“Oh, he has the maturity of one sometimes. If he ever hurts your feelings, don’t take it too personally.”

Nero’s smile morphed into a mixture of confusion and indignation. “Huh?”

“I’m kidding. Anyways, there’s been a lot of demons lately. Probably because of the Hellgate, but keep your eye out for anything unusual.”

Though he wasn’t sure what exactly constituted as unusual when demons were involved, Nero assented anyway. After a few more games, Trish gave a brief tour of the shop which consisted of the main office, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small storage room in the back. The upper floor was just two bedrooms and another bathroom. 

They chatted for a while. Trish told him about her past and gave him a brief summary of how she had met Dante and her experiences until now. It was a lot to take in and Nero listened quietly for the most part. Despite the seemingly heavy topic, she was rather nonchalant about it. And while she didn’t delve into details, the whole ordeal sounded complicated. It sounded like Dante had a complex past, too. He supposed it wasn’t surprising, considering the devil hunter was not only a hybrid, but the son of a legendary demon. 

While Trish took to sorting through some mail, Nero organized his things. He took out a small felt covered hard case that held the cleaning kit for Blue Rose and held it in his hands for a moment. He wondered if demons feeling human emotions was more common than he originally thought. Or maybe he just happened to run into outliers. And what was he? Where did he as a hybrid lie in the big picture?

“Oh, almost forgot,” Trish said as she walked around the desk with an envelope in hand. “Got a job, if you’re up for it.”

“You’re giving it to me?” Nero was surprised and quite touched at how friendly she was being.

“Knock yourself out.”

He took the envelope and glanced over the files. Supposedly a town nearby was having multiple cases of violent outbursts from the townspeople, escalating from minor disputes. It wasn’t very clear and Nero didn’t really see how this qualified as a job for Devil May Cry. But seeing as there wasn’t much else to do, he set off for the possessed town.

Upon arriving and walking several blocks into the town, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck stood as he smelled blood in the air and heard distant shouting. He looked around as he walked and noticed that some people around him were also hearing the noise and pausing whatever they were doing. Then farther down at the corner of the street, Nero heard a scream as a man with a bloodstained shirt tumbled out into the road. Another man was running after him with what looked like a bent metal shelf.

“Hey!” Nero quickly closed the distance and grabbed the makeshift weapon, causing the man to snarl at him with a crazed look. There was definitely something inhuman in those glazed eyes. Nero yanked the shelf out of the man’s grasp and threw him against a nearby wall, effectively knocking him out. The man that had fallen on the road, scampered to his feet and ran off with a whimpering squeal. “You’re welcome!” Nero called after him. 

At the sound of more screams and cries of agony and anger, Nero dashed down a few more blocks towards the source. He rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as he saw streets littered with broken glass and scattered items from shops. Everywhere Nero looked there were men and women of every age shouting and either trying to break everything in sight or trying to murder one another with barehands or whatever scrap they could find. “What the hell…?” This didn’t look like a few outbreaks of violence. This was a riot. With every second more blood was flung into the streets as more people got caught up in the fights. 

Nero’s demon side perked up, nudging him towards a demonic presence in the center of town. He followed that feeling, weaving through the mad crowd. Like an infectious cloud, rage surged through the people and it was worse as Nero got closer to the center square. A marsh of blood and corpses coated the pavement, streetposts, and broken buildings, proliferating from a gaping sunken hole in the center of the square where demonic energy swirled like a whirlpool. As Nero approached, his Devil Bringer flared brightly. 

From the sunken hole an enraged roar echoed. Two fur-clad claws drove into the crumbling road. The head of a bull appeared along with a vaguely human shaped body covered in patches of fur. It was a minotaur, a creature Nero had only read about. He stared with fascination as the beast stood at its full height, about twice as tall as Nero. Its eyes were red and veins bulged along its face and neck as it huffed and swung a blood-red sword.

“Sure you know how to use that?” Nero asked. “I thought minotaurs use axes?”

The demon’s nostrils flared as it fixed its fierce glare on Nero. “Traitor…” He rumbled in a low voice.

Nero rolled his eyes. “If you couldn’t tell, I’m not Sparda!”

“Traitor! He lied!” The minotaur roared and Nero frowned at his mad raving. Maybe he wasn’t talking to him? 

The red sword glowed bright as fire and the minotaur charged forward swinging down at Nero who blocked the blow with Devil Bringer. Upon contact with the blade, Nero could feel an evil energy emanating from it, the same energy that was sparking the frenzied anger in the townspeople. He threw back the minotaur as he felt that rage creeping towards him, trying to infect him, too. Shaking his head to clear the encroaching fog, he drew Red Queen and attacked the demon. The minotaur fought recklessly, shouting and swinging the sword regardless of the injuries Nero inflicted on him. It wasn’t too hard to dodge his attacks, but Nero knew it was best to end the fight before more of the townspeople killed each other.

He rolled out of the way of a wide swing and landed a punch in the minotaur’s gut, sending him flying into an already run down building. The beast rose to its feet, snarling and huffing. The red sword was strewn with cracks and as the minotaur raised it above its head, it split into thousands of pieces with a resounding crack. The fragments continued shattering into a fine red dust, swirling around the demon. Nero kept his distance, watching as the particles of the red sword enveloped the minotaur and made him howl in agony. The demon or the sword, he couldn’t tell, suddenly bursted in a flash of energy and a shower of blood. Nero raised his arm against the spray and saw the minotaur was on its hands and knees, covered in countless bleeding cuts.

“He lies!” The demon continued to shout. “Kill him! I’ll kill him!” With a furious roar he jumped into the sunken hole, making the ground shake.

“Hey!” Nero snarled as he steadied his balance and ran after him to the edge of the sinkhole. There was nothing at the bottom but a puddle of blood. The smothering air of demonic wrath energy had lifted. Nero looked around and saw that the townspeople seemed to be coming to their senses. Fear replaced the anger in their eyes as they surveyed their surroundings and began to panic. Unable to sense or find any traces of where the minotaur had gone, Nero decided to drop it and look for the client.

He found the investigator, who had submitted the job, hiding in his office in the police station and told him the demon had been taken care of. Though Nero only received half of the original pay due to the destruction in the town, he took it anyway, keen to be away from the mess as soon as possible. The first responders were already dealing with the situation anyway. 

His mood was thoroughly soured as he took the train back to Capulet City. He didn’t get paid in full, but what irritated him more was that the demon had gotten away. The way it acted while it fought was strange. It seemed possessed by the sword which turned on him, and then, disappeared? Nero wasn’t sure but either way, his own demonic side was stirred up and restless now, itching for a good fight. 

Back in the city, he pushed open the doors of Devil May Cry and stopped abruptly, all musings of the minotaur flown out his mind. There was the red devil hunter himself, seated in the chair behind the desk, legs propped up, and an opened magazine over his face. A black gloved hand came up and lifted a corner just enough to peer at the doorway. With a look of much-too-innocent surprise, he swung his legs down and gave Nero a lopsided grin.

“Well, hey! What brings you here, kid?” He exclaimed as if he could miss the pile of Nero’s belongings on the couch.

Nero grumbled under his breath at the nickname. “I needed a change in scenery,” he glowered, fighting a sudden wave of embarrassment at how the situation made him seem like a lost child.

“And of all the places you picked here?” Dante walked around the edge of the desk and leaned back on it with his arms crossed.

“Is that a problem?” Nero wasn’t about to admit that Dante was the reason he came to Capulet City. And it wasn’t really for Dante himself anyways. It was just that he didn’t know anywhere else would be more likely to accept him.

“Hmm, I don’t really take in stray puppies--”

“Let him stay, Dante,” Trish said as she emerged from the top of the stairs. 

“It’s my place, I can decide--”

“And it won’t be your place for long if you can’t bring in enough cash to make up for my part when I move out.” Dante gaped at her and was interrupted again before he could speak. “How was the job, Nero?”

“You got a job already?”

“Kind of shitty,” he replied, effectively ignoring Dante who was pouting between them. “Kind of weird, actually… There was this demon with a sword that was possessing him and the townspeople or something.”

“Like Yamato?” Dante asked with raised brows.

“Er…” Nero blinked, not having considered it. _He_ wasn’t possessed, was he? “Maybe…? It was different. People were pissed off for no reason. Angry enough to murder each other.”

“What did the sword look like?” Trish asked as she came down the stairs.

“Red, kinda glowed, and gave off this really angry vibe. Ring any bells?”

“Trish is better at identifying this stuff,” Dante said with a shrug as he gave his can of beer a little shake.

“Hm, can’t think of anything off the top of my head.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I’ll look into it, though. Anything else happen?”

“The sword broke into pieces and cut up the demon. And then the demon ran off shouting something about a traitor.”

Dante snorted. “Why do I feel like you have a habit of letting your quarry get away?”

“Not my fault this one literally disappeared.” Nero scowled, knowing Dante was referring to the Hellgate demons in Fortuna.

“Well, nice to see you back safe and sound,” Trish said with a warm smile. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry. You two play nice.” She waved as she left the shop, leaving Nero blushing at how she patted his hair affectionately on the way out.

As the doors closed after her, Dante stretched his arms lazily with a yawn, and settled into his chair again, legs propped up on the desk. A silence fell over the shop and Nero felt his heart suddenly beating in his throat. More of his demonic side being annoying. He had the feeling he was being watched, but a glance Dante told him he was busy reading his magazine. Shrugging it off, Nero set up a pool game. 

“So, how long you plan on staying, kid? Not trying to run from your girlfriend, are you?” Dante said teasingly, but Nero flushed with shame. When put that way, maybe Nero was running…

“Actually… Kyrie and I are just friends now.” 

“Oh,” Dante barked out a laugh, almost sounding like embarrassment, though Nero doubted that was possible. “Sorry, kid. That’s rough.”

Nero blinked, momentarily stunned and straightened up from the table. Dante, feeling sorry? “Don’t need your patronizing, old man,” he bit out with a glare.

“Didn’t think so,” Dante said with a grin. “Just don’t try to use me as a rebound.”

“I’m not that desperate.” 

“Yeowch, could have fooled me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you missed me.” 

“You wish, old man,” Nero growled as he turned his attention back to the table. He had planned to ask Dante about his demon half, maybe get an idea of how to deal with it, but maybe he shouldn’t bother bringing it up if he was just going to get annoying quips in response.

He sank a few more balls and heard a snigger from the old man. “What?” Nero glared at him.

“Never played before, have you?”

“I haven’t. What about it?” Nero asked as he sank two balls with one shot. He’d pick up on it in no time. “You up for a game?”

“Nah, I’ve always had shitty luck,” he said and closed his eyes again. Nero looked over the worn green cloth of the table with a furrowed brow. He was pretty sure it was mostly technical skill and not really luck. It was hard to believe Dante would actually be bad at aiming in pool of all things.

“Any calls?” Nero asked.

“Nope,” Dante said with a sigh and picked up a magazine to browse. 

Nero frowned, wondering if these violent tendencies were normal. He assumed it came with the demon blood, but again, his demon had been growing more and more restless. A thought came across Nero’s mind and he set the cue stick aside. “...Do you want to spar?”

Dante snorted. “Is that how you usually ask first dates?”

“Wha-- Fuck you!” Nero snapped over aggressively and flushed as Dante laughed. Before he could say anything else, the phone rang and Dante picked it up with a grin. It was infuriating how the old man seemed to get under his skin so easily. He finished his pool game as Dante talked with a potential client. The call was short and Dante tossed the receiver back in place before getting to his feet.

“Looks like there might be a fight for once. You interested, kid?”

“Whatever,” Nero muttered but grabbed Red Queen and Blue Rose anyways and followed Dante out the shop.

It was a straightforward job that involved clearing out a nest of gargoyles from an old church. The place was built of stone and overlooking a wide courtyard of cracked stone walkways and overgrown weeds. There were plenty of demons to go through and Nero welcomed the fight. He and Dante quickly fell into a competition of who could kill more. Bullets rang with the sound of blades crushing the gargoyles’ stony bodies, as the two of them easily disposed of the whole nest.

“Try and keep up, kid! I’m at thirty--”

“Forty!” Nero shouted as he impaled two gargoyles at once and revved Red Queen to explode them into bits of rock and blood. He could hear Dante snickering on the side while he moved on to more demons. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he cut down one after another and doused the air with the smell of their decaying remains. He could feel the demon in him growling with delight at the relentless slaughter. They weren’t nearly as challenging as most of the demons he fought during the Savior incident, but it was better than nothing. 

The rush of the kill had him constantly taunting the gargoyles, dodging out of reach at the last possible moment and blasting them with Blue Rose. He hadn’t realized he was trying to show off until one gargoyle got too close and grazed his cheek, drawing a drop of blood. With a vicious snarl, he lashed out with Devil Bringer and crushed a handful of them in an instant. For a moment, Nero felt as if his body was moving more quickly than his mind as he killed several more. There were gunshots near him along with a shriek, and he blinked several times until he realized Dante was talking to him.

“You alright, kid?” Dante asked as he lowered his guns.

“Uh, yeah…” Nero’s voice came out thick, and he shook his head as the demon voice in his head seemed to still be in battle mode. 

“Can’t leave you alone for one second, can I?” Dante smirked and twirled Ebony and Ivory before holstering them. He looked around at the wreckage with a sigh. “Was hoping for something a bit more interesting.”

Nero put away Red Queen and shook out his hands. His adrenaline was still running high and his senses were sharpened by his alert demonic side seeking out more enemies to fight. Though his demon was quick to jump into action, he hadn’t felt it so on edge before. There wasn’t anything around other than himself and Dante, and an odd scent lingered in the air amongst the blood of the slain demons.

“Nothing else around?” Nero asked.

“Doesn’t look like--” Dante turned around and broke off into a whistle as he met Nero’s gaze. “Trying to eat me with those eyes?”

“Huh?” Nero blinked bewilderedly. Was he staring that intently? He didn’t mean to. “What are you talking about?”

Dante shrugged and chuckled as he started trekking through the debris. “Should probably learn to keep your demon in check.”

He paid no attention to his comment, still fixated on what his demon side was trying to seek out. “Wait, you sure there’s nothing else. Do you smell something?”

Dante paused and made a display of sniffing the air. “Other than fried demon guts, no.”

Nero tried to focus on the scent and caught something that smelled like cinnamon, leather, smoked wood; and then the scent became more familiar and his eyes landed on Dante again who was starting to tap his feet impatiently. 

“...It’s nothing,” he muttered and followed him out of the wreckage. There was no way that the oddly pleasant smell was coming from Dante. Nope. He was imagining things, and it was already fading anyway as his demonic side finally calmed down. Nero was already dealing with moving to a new place and he was _not_ going to get fixated on that scent that lingered in the back of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing in the characters one by one, setting up this incredibly bloated stage for this self-indulgent overly dramatic epic :P
> 
> I am always open to having a beta reader, if anyone is interested!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Bargain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! Ta-dah~
> 
> Bi-weekly updates are still going! I hope to keep it up and not die in the process. Still open for a beta reader if anyone is interested!

Sunlight pushed through a narrow window down in the basement, negligible to the lamps Quin had switched on in his workshop where he worked diligently on an enchantment. He tapped the pestle he had been using against the edge of the mortar and set it aside. The mortar held a black inky substance made from various demonic matter and was imbued with his magic. He held it under the light, making sure the consistency was smooth. Next, he would paint it on his hands. A plant nearby responded to his thoughts, and its vines picked up a paintbrush. Quin took it without a glance and dipped the tip into the magic ink. 

Various plants surrounded him from small herbs to flowers to large leafy sprouts. Some native to the human realm, some from the demon realm, and some were a result of crossbreeding. The plant that handed him the brush was a demonic venus flytrap. It snapped its leafy jaws around a fly buzzing past. Quin ignored it, focused on painting an intricate pattern on the backs of his hands. In addition to the plants taking up space on the shelves and work tables, there were numerous notebooks, loose diagrams, and various drawing utensils, all collected over the past two years.

The plant beside him curled up into a resting state. All was quiet except for the occasional traffic outside along with movement in the kitchen above. The house belonged to Lisa, a hearty middle-aged woman who Quin met many years ago when she was just a young girl. She had gone through her fair share of life, in particular being a war nurse and eventually settling in this neighborhood after being widowed. Quin had reconnected with her two years ago, bringing along with him a pair of human-demon hybrids, Michael and Angela.

By chance, Quin had saved the pair from a demon attack. That was how he met Joshua, the demon hunter who had been hired by the orphanage to find the missing children. Quin would have returned the kids and gone back into his self-exile had he not recognized their heritage as well as the magic stone each wore around their necks. The Magatama. It was a demonic jewel that Quin had entrusted to his sister, Meris, who he hadn’t seen since she helped him cross the realms fifteen centuries ago.

And so he decided the least he could do was find a comfortable home for his niece and nephew. Lisa’s familiarity with the occult and being an old friend made her trustworthy. Though Quin initially worried about burdening her, she had accepted them all warmly. Since then he had slowly reacclimated with human society, keeping an eye out for his sister. But Meris was especially skilled in concealment magic, so it was no particular surprise to him that he hadn’t found her yet. Perhaps he never would. He had accepted long ago that he would likely never see one of his pack again. Even after meeting Michael and Angela, he wasn’t so hopeful. But now that the Hellgate had been opened and closed, and maybe even Vergil might be alive somehow… But he was getting ahead of himself.

He was eager to leave for Fortuna as soon as possible, having stayed at Lisa’s house for several days-- much longer than he would have liked. But after considering the recent increase in demonic activity, he was keen on providing a bit of extra protection for the twins. With a short incantation, the marks shimmered, then faded so that they appeared like regular tattoos. Quin turned his hands in the light, making sure the magic had set the way he wanted, then headed upstairs.

His steps were silent, more out of habit than anything else. He had accidentally startled Lisa and the kids many times before. From the kitchen he could hear the water running, probably Lisa rinsing vegetables for dinner, and the sound of a knife shearing into fruit. It smelled like apples. Quin walked out onto the porch and heard the sound of the school bus’s distinctive exhaust and squeaking doors in the distance. Slowly, he paced across the old wooden boards, breathing in fresh air. 

The small blue house was tall and narrow, nestled among other identically shaped houses in different colors, all crammed together with slivers of yard in between. Concrete steps wound through a garden, that was squished between the foundation of the house and the edge of the lot, down to the sidewalk where Michael and Angela were coming up side by side.

“Hi, Quin!” Angela cried happily as she ran up the steps to throw her arms around him. 

“Hello,” Quin replied with a bit of surprise. Then he quickly realized that they had expected him to be gone already. He felt a twinge of guilt. Was it for better or for worse that they were used to him leaving? Michael, a timid boy, simply gave him a smile and a quick hug. 

“Woah!” Angela exclaimed. “What did you draw on your hand?”

“I’ll tell you in a moment. How was school?”

She babbled a whole string of events, and after humouring her, Quin glanced around dramatically and drew close to them with a whisper. “I have something for you two. Can you keep a secret?”

“What kinda secret?” Angela asked with wide eyes. “Lisa-allowed secret?”

“Yes. But just her. You still have your magic stones, right? Can I see them?”

They nodded and drew out the Magatama halves that they had kept tucked under their shirts. The demonic jewel had the appearance of smooth, pure, white jade in the shape of a comma. Quin held one half in each hand and focused his energy so that the dark markings on his hand crawled onto the stones as if alive. They wound around the stones tightly, then glowed before vanishing. Michael and Angela examined their flawless pendants with wonder.

“What was that?” Angela asked in an awed tone.

“A bit of extra protection,” Quin explained. “Just in case.”

Michael exchanged a glance with his sister, then looked at Quin. “Are you going away again?”

“I have to.”

“How long?”

Before he could answer, the front door swung open. Lisa stood with her arms crossed and fixed them with a mockingly stern stare.

“I was starting to wonder what was taking so long. I sliced some apples. They’ll turn brown as poo if you two don’t hurry up. Come on!”

The kids giggled and murmured apologies as Lisa ushered them inside. While they ate their snack in the kitchen, Lisa took Quin aside in the sitting room, out of earshot.

“You’re finally out of the basement! Do you even know what day it is?”

“I believe it is a Thursday,” Quin said a small smile. “No need to worry for me.”

“I worried over people as a profession. I may as well keep it up.”

“I was just setting up extra precautions. As Joshua said, there’s been more demonic activity. Can’t be too careful.”

“You’re leaving again.”

“Soon, yes.”

Lisa sighed through her nose, hands on her hips.

“I’ll come back. I always do.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if your mourning will ever end,” she said more tenderly. Quin blinked at her with an impassive look. He had never told her about Vergil or anything really about his life since he reconnected with her.

“Am I that obvious?” He said with a little laugh.

“No, but when you’re surrounded by war and tasked with saving as many lives as possible, you recognize signs of grief.”

“I see.”

“You clearly never want to talk about it and that’s fine. I suspect demons might grieve differently than humans, if at all, but those kids are attached to you. So the next time you visit, it better be longer than a few weeks.”

“I will,” he said with the utmost practiced genuineness and pacified her wholly unnecessary worries. Then she joined the twins in the kitchen while he retired to his room. 

Lisa was another human he greatly appreciated, accepting the twins into her care and providing him with a living space without prying into his personal affairs. His room was small and sparse, just a bed, end table, dresser and it was all he needed despite Lisa’s constant insistence that she would be more than happy to purchase and maintain extra furnishings for him, if he wanted it. 

He supposed he ought to be warmer, take her up on her offer since Lisa was often so generous to him and cared about him. It was a shame he simply could not reciprocate such tender feelings, just practicing human facades for these soft hearted people around him and for his niece and nephew. Like clockwork, he focused on his tasks. Just one more to go.

The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, painting his shadow along the grey carpet and up the peeling wallpaper. Quin ran his fingers through his hair, catching a loose strand and dropping it onto his shadow as he focused his energy on summoning his familiar. The hair turned silver, then the shadow it rested on peeled away from the ground, swallowing the strand and morphing into the shape of a cat. It had round milky white eyes, and it would have been mostly black except its body was littered with rotted patches of flesh, some spots deteriorated down to the bones. 

The undead cat stepped out silently, staring up at Quin, waiting obediently. Quin knelt down and placed his forefinger right between its eyes. He hissed out a few orders in a demonic language. The familiar would hide in the shadows, invisible to all, and would fend off any demons that might endanger Michael, Angela, or Lisa. Even miles away, he would be able to sense through his familiar if anything was amiss. The cat nipped his finger, drawing a single droplet of blood before melting into the shadows again.

Quin sat on the floor beside his bed, intending to meditate until dawn. He hadn’t fully recovered his power since his entrapment in Mallet Island, and even if there was no real danger in the immediate future, he disliked his current state of weakness. He focused on the energies around him, nature that permeated even into man-made places. He could sense the presences of Lisa, the kids, birds outside, neighbors, people passing by in cars. Like thin threads, he caught them, distinguished them, and moved on, reaching farther out with his senses. If his mate bond with Vergil hadn’t been severed, he would have been able to sense him even on the other side of the world. Still, he focused and tried what he could. Like storm clouds, remnants of demonic energy lingered, blooming outwards from the Hellgate even though it had been closed for a while by now.

Hours passed, the sky darkened, and he had not sensed anything unusual, no traces of Vergil that he could discern. There were muffled sounds from downstairs of cutlery, chatter, and the smell of pot roast drifting up. Quin observed these things passively, his focus only being disturbed eventually when Michael and Angela creeped up outside his door. He waited a while in silence before calling out to them, 

“You may come in.” He could hear their startled noises. Hesitantly, the doorknob turned and Angela and Michael entered. 

“Sorry,” Michael said quietly.

“No worries,” Quin replied with a gentle smile. He wasn’t really going to find anything anyways. “Need anything?”

“Just wanted to talk,” Angela said as she hopped up onto his bed. “You said you were going away again.”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. I’ll be back though. You know I always come back. And I often call, don’t I?”

Michael sat beside him, knees to his chest. Angela played with the sheets without looking at him. A tense silence fell between them and Quin like a shroud. 

“Promise?” Michael asked. They both looked at him, and Quin hesitated, smiling without real feeling. It was foolish for a devil to make a promise, unless he already knew the outcome. 

“I promise.” 

Foolish indeed, but then again he was a devil that had fallen in love, wasn’t he? Their bright smiles stung, illuminating his guilt in not being able to return the pure love that they freely gave. The topic was quickly dismissed in favor of playing some old board games. Lisa joined later, bringing out the chessboard. Though she was good, Quin simply played so many games over the years and won every time.

Soon enough everyone retired for the night, and Quin lay on his bed, unsleeping. He didn’t need it anyway. It was a comfort that he sometimes indulged in. He liked to think he was getting better at it. When he had first stayed in Lisa’s house the first few months, he would stay awake for weeks and then sleep for days. Waking up at all was a small victory. After all, he had intended on sleeping forever back when he woke from Mallet Island. He brought his hand up, holding the locket over his chest as he watched the murky night sky float by.

At the crack of dawn, he gathered his basic travel necessities, spell components, and weapons: his knives and jian. He exchanged brief goodbyes with Lisa and the kids. Michael and Angela were rubbing sleep from their eyes as they waved from the porch. The trip to Fortuna took most of the day via train and ferries.

Stepping onto the salted docks, his eyes widened at the sight of countless buildings torn and strewn in rubble across the streets, some in the midst of repair and many others still in pieces. There were men, women, and children alike contributing to the reconstruction effort. In all fairness, he had been prepared for worse. He was impressed, considering one of the largest Underworld portals had been opened just a few weeks ago.

He had been here once several centuries ago. The religion around Sparda was growing then and Quin had been quite amused at the whole fiasco, considering how Sparda had obviously abandoned the place long before that. Quin’s chest tightened as he remembered how he had wanted to visit here with Vergil. They had traveled many places together, and there were many more places left unexplored.

He walked along the main streets, eavesdropping as he went. It wasn’t hard for Quin to put the pieces together, something about corrupt leaders and humans trying to wield demonic power. Quite frankly, he had heard of many similar cases. But most importantly he wanted to hear details about _how_ the Hellgate had been opened. There was something about a demon child which piqued his interest. However, before he could pick up on anything else, he stopped in the main square where a young woman was singing to a group of children. It looked like there was a makeshift relief center nearby with food and medical supplies. 

Quin stood under the shade of an awning as he listened to the young woman singing a classic opera song. It was a famous piece that Quin had the privilege of hearing when it was first performed many centuries ago. The young woman’s voice rang clearly and sweet over the children who watched her with rapt eyes. When the song came to an end, the children applauded and cheered until they were called to line up for supper. As Quin approached, the young woman smiled and greeted him warmly.

“Hello, sir. We still have rations, if you need some.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Actually, I’m from out of town.”

“Oh! Welcome to Fortuna. Ah, sorry about the mess…”

“It’s alright. I was curious about what exactly happened. Could you tell me anything?” Quin smiled disarmingly and made sure not to stare at her too intently. Though all the townspeople had a look of fatigue and fear, the young woman had a certain clarity in her eyes. They found a table by a small cafe in the corner of the square and talked in relative privacy.

She was hesitant at first, mostly repeating what the townspeople had said. But as the crowd thinned out and the sun dropped lower, she grazed over details of her own experience, revealing the fact that she had a much more personal encounter. Quin told her that he was a devil hunter and spun a story about how he was chasing down a demon that was possibly linked to the Hellgate, which was somewhat true in a way. She opened up a bit more, and Quin learned her name was Kyrie and that she had a brother and childhood friend who were part of the Order.

“Could I talk to them? Ask them a few questions?” 

“Credo… died in the battle,” she said quietly.

“My apologies. I meant no disrespect,” Quin said with a small bow.

She gave a meek smile and continued, “Nero left, just about a few weeks ago.” She looked as though she was going to say more, but quickly brought her cup of tea to her lips. Quin waited patiently to see if she would continue, but instead she asked about his job. He drew from previous demons he had encountered, easily constructing a sound story.

“It blends in easily with human society. That’s what makes it especially dangerous.” Kyrie seemed like the type of person who was too kind for her own good, and she seemed to believe what he said.

“Are you… a demon?” she asked without malice. The question took him by surprise and he laughed.

“If I say yes, would you report me?” He asked lightly and wondered how much contact she had with demons. If a person had suffered the trauma of a demon attack and suspected him of being a demon, then said person would probably be more wary than how she was acting. Kyrie didn’t have the slightest fear in her eyes, only curiosity.

“No, I wouldn’t. I… I don’t know why I asked that. I’m sorry.” She smiled sheepishly.

“It’s alright. I suppose I deserve that, telling you about a demon that blends in with human society.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should tell her what he was. “In any case, I need a lead on this demon I’m tracking. Do you know where I might be able to get more information? I don’t suppose you’ve had devil hunters in the area?” He had a hunch that Nero was the demon child that he had heard whispers about, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Dante was also involved.

“Maybe the Order’s headquarters,” she said though she sounded unconvincing. After a few seconds of consideration she asked, “Have you heard of Devil May Cry?”

“I know friends who have had connections with them, yes.”

“They were here. Actually, they helped save Fortuna.”

“Really? I suppose that might be my next stop.”

Their conversation soon came to a close as Kyrie’s assistance with the relief shelter was requested. Evening settled over the city with pink hues washing to blue, and stars winking into sight. Quin bade Kyrie goodbye and wandered around the streets another hour to see if he could pick up any more information. He still didn’t hear anything about Yamato, and he definitely didn’t sense Vergil anywhere nearby. Mate bond or not, he would have noticed. Of course, this was why he was often adverse to hopefulness and sought to maintain balance in his mind and actions. But despite those self reminders, he couldn’t help feeling the sting of disappointment as well as further curiosity on the whole incident. If Yamato wasn’t in Fortuna anymore, it was likely with Dante. Quin would have to go to Capulet City after all, and he assumed that was where this _Nero_ had gone. 

Deciding there wasn’t much more to do at the moment, he checked into a hotel that was surprisingly intact and went to the small bar adjacent to the lobby for a drink. The bar was furnished with moody orange lighting over dark wood tables and cream colored seats. It was clearly something for visitors rather than the devoutly religious residents.

He took a seat at the counter, ordered a glass of wine, and surveyed the room through the mirror that ran along the wall of the bar. There were only a handful of people, mostly in business attire, sipping drinks as they talked and laughed in those carefully practiced social tones that feigned interest. 

Quin thanked the bartender for the wine, and as he took a sip, his eyes landed on a man that had walked through the entrance. The hairs along Quin’s arms raised as he sensed a demonic aura carefully covered up around the newcomer, like perfume thrown over a bad stench. The man was tall with sandy blonde locks brushed to one side, a prominent jaw, bright green eyes, and dressed in an impeccable white suit. Quin’s eyes narrowed as the man met his gaze and took a seat at the stool beside him. Something about him smelled familiar, and anyone with a demonic presence that was familiar to Quin was usually trying to kill him.

With a grin, the man ordered a whiskey in a honey-like voice and adjusted his blazer before relaxing on the stool and meeting Quin’s gaze in the mirror. His green eyes in the reflection gleamed like corrosive acid.

“Quintus. Long time no see, old friend,” the man said and stretched out a hand.

Quin regarded him warily and shook his hand. He felt a small ripple of demonic energy and recognized it immediately. Keeping his expression neutral, he took a slow drink from his wine and stared ahead at the mirror. 

“Cassius. Friends, are we? Even without your disguise, I don’t think I would have recognized you.” He hadn’t seen him since before the demon world was sealed. Despite being a fellow general of Mundus, Cassius was mysteriously absent during the rebellion. 

“My apologies. I was so pleased to see a familiar face that I overstepped boundaries.” Cassius laughed. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Quin answered with a polite smile, just the slightest rise of the corner of his lips. 

He sat comfortably with his hands folded on the counter, watching every movement of the demon lord beside him. Was Cassius approaching him amongst humans because he thought he’d be safer? How amusing. He could feel the weight of his sword under his coat and waited patiently for Cassius to continue talking, curious as to what he wanted. 

“Things have been rather exciting haven’t they, with the Hellgate being opened and all?” 

Quin shrugged though he didn’t like the glint in those acidic eyes.

“I must confess. Since I arrived in the human realm, I was curious and looked into some rumors floating around.” The ice in the whiskey clashed as Cassius took a drink and he leaned his elbows on the counter. “Is it true that you and one of the sons of Sparda…”

Quin didn’t flinch despite his quickened blood. His gaze was unwavering from Cassius as he remained relaxed. He wasn’t foolish enough to be provoked so easily, and he let the silence draw out, watching the gleam slip from Cassius’s eyes as they tried to search his own. Quin smirked and asked evenly, “What about it?”

“Well, it’s curious isn’t it? The Hellgate can only be opened by Yamato which was frequently used by the elder son of Sparda.”

Quin stayed silent, waiting for him to get to the point.

“You know the relic, the Book of the Dead, do you not?”

He knew it, and knew that Cassius was referring to resurrection. He had researched it himself. 

“I’ve been dabbling in magic and I happened to come across it. It may be possible to-”

“It’s not possible,” Quin said, finding it harder to maintain an even tone. “His soul is gone.” Mundus had made sure of that outcome, and Dante the executioner.

“Ah, but if his soul was truly gone how could the Hellgate have been opened by a supposedly broken Yamato? How did the Yamato come to be unbroken?” Cassius inquired with a smug look.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” Quin replied coolly.

Cassius laughed and took a slow drink from his glass. “Clearly, Vergil’s soul may not be completely lost. And if it is not completely lost, there is a chance to bring him back.”

Quin held his tongue, restraining the urge to tear out the wretch’s throat, hate stirring like burning bile at the sound of his mate’s name drooping from the sordid lips. Instead, he stared at him quietly. At a simple gesture, Cassius continued. 

“I’m telling you all this because I need your help and I could help you in return. I’m looking for the weapons of the Four Horsemen which you sealed away.”

“I sealed them away for a reason.”

“Of course, but you see, much of my power was stolen by them and when you sealed them, so was my power locked away. I wish to recover what is mine and return to the demon realm.”

“And become Demon King?” Quin had heard this story multiple times. 

He smiled pleasantly. “Yes. You’re right, I would like to return as a demon king, but I have no intention of disturbing mankind. They are of no interest to me.”

“And your underlings are also uninterested in humans?” Quin asked skeptically.

“I assure you that they will not harm humanity.”

Quin stifled a laugh of disbelief and nodded before taking another sip of his wine. What a joke. 

“Why did you come to the human realm in the first place?”

“To search for the devil arms as I mentioned! I searched the underworld, but I doubted you would have sealed them there. So when Mundus tried to open a portal, I managed to cross it, incomplete as it was.” Cassius turned to look at him directly. “If you help me obtain these artifacts of power, I will help you bring back your mate. I’ve performed the ritual before. It works. I’m sure you know. It’s been done before, though the conditions are rarely met. But when all the pieces are correctly brought together, it’s never failed.”

Quin kept his eyes on his glass as he slowly traced the rim with a fingertip. He did in fact know what Cassius was talking about. He had been there himself the one time it had been performed successfully, reviving another demon general that had been important to Mundus back then. But in this case, the pieces weren’t all there as far Quin knew. “And the soul?”

“Must be containable, which it is, and it resurfaced in Fortuna.” 

Quin thought about what he’d heard throughout the day in the city. There was that demon child, Nero. Is that what Cassius was talking about? 

“It’s best if you see the possibilities for yourself. Capulet City is where I would suggest, but perhaps you already knew that.” When Quin didn’t say anything, Cassius downed the rest of his drink and clapped Quin’s shoulder. “Your mate is powerful. If he still has the will to live, he can certainly be brought back.” He dropped a few bills on the counter and rose to leave. “I look forward to your timely decision. Have a good night, Quintus.”

Quin only met his gaze through the mirror without a word and let him leave. He brought the remainder of his wine to his lips and suddenly the bar was too loud for him. Irritated by all the noise around him and in his head, he quickly left and headed up to his room. When he got there, he closed the door behind him, leaned back against it, and glanced around the tidy maroon themed furniture. Now it was too quiet. 

Tugging his hair loose, he entered the bathroom, undressed, stepped into the shower, and switched on the water. His movements were mechanical as he cleaned himself and thought about what he had learned in Fortuna that day. As wild an idea it may be, there was a chance he could have Vergil back. He couldn’t help latching onto it like a lifeline. His heart pounded.

Even though he was finished washing, he stood under the shower a while longer. The running water was soothing yet bittersweet, reminding him of the waterfalls or streams in forests which had become painful to remember. There was a creek that ran through the forest of the home he had shared with Vergil. He visited it just once after waking up from Mallet Island seven years ago. And since then, he never went back. His fingers curled around the chain of his locket, feeling the cold metal that was sometimes like a noose in these moments of reminiscence. 

A familiar languor weighed down on his limbs and with a heavy sigh, he shut off the water, dried himself off, and pulled on a change of sleepwear. His hair was still damp, but he got in bed anyway, curling under the sheets, and cradling the locket in his hand. It contained a note that Vergil had written for him after he had been sealed away. Every day or night before he slept, Quin would hold it and remember the days they spent together. He missed waking up to his scent every morning, missed their exhilarating sparring sessions and seeing Vergil improve each time, missed those hazy afternoons of reading in comfortable silence, missed how he always tried making different tea blends even though Vergil stubbornly preferred chamomile over everything else. He missed his voice, his warmth, his rare smiles. Most of all Quin missed how Vergil’s proud sharp eyes softened whenever they landed on him.

Quin had never felt such peace as he did during those days, and he dreamed of it lasting forever, even searching for a way to become mortal to grow old with Vergil. They had an argument over it. It was the last time they spoke before Quin had been attacked and captured by Mundus’s minions. He always wondered if Vergil had thought he abandoned him. He couldn’t help wondering whether or not Vergil harbored resentment towards him. 

Pain sprouted in his chest and he clutched the locket tightly, heart skipping, beating harshly as if it would burst. Even if Vergil hated him, he wanted him back. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled up even more. Tiring thoughts. With fragile breath, he eventually fell into a fitful sleep rife with nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many OCs for this fic lol. Get ready for more along the way :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Mercury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I procrastinated. Will do my best to stay on track in the future!
> 
> Looking for a beta reader!
> 
> Updates bi-weekly

Nero settled into Capulet City smoothly enough. He had met Lady soon after arriving in town and started exploring the city. And it only took a few jobs after Nero’s first one to realize why Dante rarely actually took any. Among the first several that he accepted, one of them was an old paranoid lady who mistook the faulty pipes in her building for the cries of angry ghosts, another turned out to be a woman trying to cause her ex trouble, and the others were equally boring duds. Trish had assured him that they were in fact getting more real cases than usual, which used to be once every several weeks to now once every week or so. But from what he could tell, even those real cases weren’t anything but weak demons. 

Currently, he was returning to the shop after hours on a wild goose chase for some fabled evil spirit that was supposedly haunting a suspended construction site. He had been hopeful when he surveyed the place and sensed a demonic presence. But like a fading trail, he wasn’t able to track it down and decided it had run off or just didn’t really exist at all after wandering fruitlessly for hours. Needless to say, he was in a sulky mood.

On the way back he took a walk through the city and stopped at the square with the statue of Sparda. He had noticed it when he first passed through the area, but didn’t take the time to look closely until now. The figure was human-like, similar to the Order’s depiction but with less of that cheesy holiness crap and more like a warrior. Nero glanced around the peaceful park.The sun was shimmering gold in the clear fountain, a few families were having a picnic, people were strolling by, and kids chased each other around with gleeful squeals. 

As nice as it was, Nero felt restless, like his skin was put on wrong. He was itching for a job. A real one where he could have a chance to beat the living shit out of some demons. It made him wonder if this urge for violence was normal. In Fortuna he had justified it by telling himself the whole place was stifling with its uptight religion and they all disliked him so of course he would feel frustrated and have violent urges. But Capulet City was nice, thriving with energy and people from various walks of life. Why was his demon being so annoying? It was another thing he would have liked to ask Dante about, if he wasn’t so damn obnoxious all the time.

He felt the voice in the back of his mind grumbling in similar frustration. Frowning at the statue, Nero got up and left the park. Shadows lengthened across the cobblestone road that was pink under the hazy sunset as Nero walked up the steps to the doors of Devil May Cry. He paused upon noticing a piece of paper taped to the surface of the door. Peeling it off, he read the message scrawled across it.

> _Beware. A demon hunts you._

Nero read over the note and turned it over in hands with an unimpressed look. No shit, a demon hunts him. Demons were always hunting him. He was about to crumple it up and toss it in the trash when a sharp chill crawled up his spine. One hand on Blue Rose, Nero whipped around on the spot, demonic senses alert. The street was as empty as before, fallen leaves scuttling across the pavement, birds twittering in the trees as usual. He sniffed the air and wasn’t able to detect anything strange. The brief feeling of being watched had already dissipated with no discernable sign left behind. With a low growl, Nero tossed the note in a nearby trash bin, turned back around, and entered the shop.

Another shiver, a very different kind, rolled across his skin as the familiar scent of the place hit his nose. Having been alerted just now, his demonic senses were just a bit sharper, making him notice the scent more than usual. Nero tried to shake off the strange fixation his demon seemed to have developed. Especially since he came to the realization that the scent in the shop was very close to Dante’s scent. He did not want to think about the implications of his demon side being so attached to it.

He didn’t sense the devil hunter in the shop and assumed he was still on his job. It was nice to have a little peace and quiet for once from the old man constantly getting on his nerves, teasing and taunting at every chance he got. And it would be even better if his demon side wasn’t so weirdly anxious whenever he was alone.

Nero headed up to his new bedroom which Trish had cleared out about a week ago. The room had few posters of bands and movies up on the walls, a set of plastic drawers served as his nightstand, and a tiny closet with a door that was always slightly ajar. There were cracks along the walls, mostly hidden under the posters. A single window with blinds was nestled between the closet and the foot of his bed. The grey carpet had a few stains and Nero wondered if it was originally white.

He breathed steadily, the scent less prominent in his room, as he started the process of cleaning Red Queen and Blue Rose. The routine of maintaining his weapons was always therapeutic. It was an activity that required diligence, but at the same time didn’t need much brain power. Night had fallen by the time he finished. He took a shower, ate a quick frozen meal, and tried reading an old fantasy novel he had brought with him from his old home. But he couldn’t really focus and absentmindedly wondered what was keeping Dante out this late. 

Nero put down his book that he hadn’t really been reading and frowned at himself. It’s not like they had never gone out for a job in the middle of the night. He blamed his demon side for these unusual musings. Even after multiple attempts to clear his mind, it was still bugging him. He decided to try sleeping early and got ready for bed. As time ticked by he found himself tossing and turning in bed, sleep refusing to come. Though he wasn’t hearing words, it was obvious his demon didn’t want him to sleep at the moment.

“What the hell do you want?” Nero grumbled as he rubbed his eyes and stared up at the shadows of the window blinds and street lamps outside. His demon wanted him to do something, get up and go out, but why? With a frustrated groan, Nero reached for his music player and headphones. He picked one of his premade hour-long playlists, and blasting music through his ears seemed just enough to quiet the voice for him to fall in a light slumber.

Nero shivered as heat bloomed along his body, hands trailing over his skin like flames. His limbs were heavy, fuzziness floating through his head. Lips ghosted along the nape of his neck and he arched into the touch with a sigh. One hand slid down the bare skin of his stomach, stirring butterflies. He gasped as that hand reached down further and grasped his half hard member, stroking him steadily. Shudders of pleasure rushed through his body, making him twist to kiss his partner. Heat boiled in his belly, flushing hot across his pounding heart, rolling up his throat in the shape of words coiling at the tip of his tongue.

“Dante…”

Just as the name left his lips, the world twisted away from him. He was crouched in a forest, struggling to stay upright. His body ached with injuries, and spilt blood obscured his vision. Demons prowled around him, ready to strike. His strength was slipping away. He could only brace himself for the attack as the demons lunged at him. But a flash of silver, the gleam of a quick blade, stopped the beasts in their tracks, and they fell in bloody pieces to the ground. He sensed someone approach him as his body gave out and he collapsed. The last thing he was aware of was a voice.

_“Can’t believe he actually had offspring… Hey, can you hear me?”_

The sound of it seemed muffled and echoed from far away. Like being dragged from the depths of heavy water, clarity broke through the hazy visions. Nero woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing and morning light streaming through the window. After blinking several times, he brushed off his headphones which had partially slipped off, and groped blindly at his bedside table. Realizing that his phone wasn’t there, he cursed under his breath and rolled out of bed to fumble through the pockets of his discarded hoodie. Somehow it was still ringing by the time he flipped it open and brought it to his ear.

“Hello?” he said with a thick voice.

“It’s about time. Called you twice already.” It was Lady. Did he really sleep through two phone calls? “Anyway I got a job that sounds like it’s going to be a bitch, and Dante’s being the usual lazy ass. You want to tag along?”

“Uh…” Nero rubbed a hand over his face and slumped back down on his bed as he glanced at his clock. He had a dream. But it was all muddled incoherent fragments by now. There was no point in trying to grasp it. He would have really liked to sleep more, but he was also quickly reminded of how much he needed a fight when his demon writhed restlessly in the back of his mind. “Yeah, sure. When and where should I meet you?”

Half an hour later, he was meeting Lady at a bus station. She had gotten a call about an old boarding school that was cleared out a month ago and was supposed to have undergone a reconstruction. There were reports of supernatural occurrences, most of which were related to deaths and disappearances in the area.

“I did my own research and it looks like it might be a demon that’s really good at hiding. And if it can make the death of its victims look like accidents, it might also be smarter than our average demon. Oh, and there’s also a bonus if we get the job done as soon as possible.”

“Got it. Hidden demon, huh,” Nero said as he glanced down at his Devil Bringer. Hopefully, he’d find a good fight.

They got off at a stop that was on the outskirts of the city. Nearby was a high school, a movie theater, and the decrepit boarding school just a few blocks away. The buildings were squat and spaced out with more room for trees and shrubs unlike the heart of the city. Despite the sun shining in the center of the clear sky, the air was chilly and carried a stench that Nero had come to associate with demons. 

The smell grew as they came up to the abandoned building. It was four stories tall with dirty windows, flaking plaster, and cracked bricks coated with sprawling ivy. The whole thing looked as if it would crumble at the slightest breath. As they walked in through the front and surveyed the wide entrance hall, they decided not to stray too far from each other and searched from the bottom floor to the top. There wasn’t much other than rotting wood, rats, and intruding weeds. 

Nero had succeeded in ignoring his grumbling demon, but when they came to a set of what was probably dorms, the voice pressed at him with sharp urgency. Lady was checking the bathrooms around the common area while Nero followed where his demon guided him, up the stairs and towards a wing of bedrooms. One foot ahead of the other, step by step, he managed to creep silently across the old protesting floorboards. Most of the doors were hanging ajar or missing altogether. He checked each room carefully, looking into every nook and cranny. The smell of brimstone was growing stronger, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Though he didn’t sense any obvious presences other than Lady, there was an odd static in the air that kept him on edge with every step.

Suddenly, he heard a crash in a room at the end of the hall and a shrill shriek that was abruptly cut short. He dashed up to the door with one hand on Red Queen and Blue Rose drawn ahead of him. Shouldering the door open, he trained his gun on two figures in the far corner of the room. A woman was sprawled on the floor with her throat cut open, and a man was crouched over her. He looked up at Nero and raised his hands slowly.

Nero’s finger froze on the trigger as he met the man’s steady gaze and his demon screamed at him not to shoot. The man had long black hair tied back and eerie silvery eyes like pools of mercury that sent a shudder down his spine. There was… something off. The man glanced between Nero and his Devil Bringer.

“Hello,” he said, much too calmly.

Nero glowered and tightened his grip on Blue Rose.

“It’s not what it looks like,” the man said quickly, but still in a soft unpressed tone.

“Really? What is it then?” Nero snarled, angry that the voice in his head was trying to hold him back. Why should he? He could feel the warm glow of his Devil Bringer that indicated the man before him was a demon. Maybe this demon was somehow messing with his head. He was staring at Nero in an odd way, like trying to decipher a puzzle.

“This woman was a demon in disguise. She took something of mine, I chased her here, she attacked me, and I killed her.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you're a demon, too.”

Said demon glanced at Nero’s glowing demon arm again and had the audacity to smile. “Is that a personal alarm? Quite handy.”

“Jokes aren’t going to get you out of this, pal,” Nero sneered.

“I can assure you, I mean no harm.” 

“Hey! Nero! You find anything?” Lady called from somewhere downstairs.

“Maybe,” he shouted back without taking his eyes off the demon who dropped his hands nonchalantly as if there wasn’t a gun still trained on him.

“You’re Nero?” Those mercury eyes, more hazel now, narrowed.

“What about it?”

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh yeah? I was told there’s a demon trying to hunt me down.”

The demon blinked and said slowly, “Did Kyrie tell you that?”

“You know Kyrie?” Nero asked, taken aback though quickly furious once more. “What did you do to her?” He growled as he stepped forward with Blue Rose still drawn. The demon seemed more annoyed rather than intimidated.

“Nothing! I met her recently and we talked. You can ask her yourself.”

Nero glared at him, not trusting him one bit despite how his demon side kept telling him to lower his weapon. Footsteps came down the hallway and Lady appeared beside him with guns drawn.

“Nice going. Let’s wrap this--”

“He says he knows Kyrie.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lady give him a warning look.

“Shouldn’t trust him.”

“I don’t suppose you know Joshua Levoni?” the man asked while addressing Lady. “My name is Quintus. Quin for short. Like I said, call them and ask.”

Trusting Lady to keep an eye on him, Nero lowered Blue Rose and took out his phone. There was a stifling silence as the dial rang and Kyrie’s voice carried through the still air.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kyrie. It’s me.”

“Hi, Nero. How are you doing?”

“Fine. Listen, did you meet a guy named Quin?”

“Yes, I did. Oh, did he find you?”

Nero glanced at the demon, still unsure. “Yeah. Can you describe him?”

“Hm… He had long black hair. I think hazel eyes? And I think he’s shorter than you.”

“I’m about the same height,” Quin muttered. Lady cocked her gun at him.

“What did you guys talk about?” Nero asked.

“He said he was tracking down a demon that could blend in with human society. He said it escaped through the Hellgate and he was looking for a lead. I told him about you… Is everything alright?”

At that moment, the corpse suddenly let out a fizzing sound, and the woman’s face melted away to reveal a reptilian one. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you later.” Suspicions slightly relieved, Nero asked Lady if she was also going to make a call.

“Maybe later,” she said as she holstered her guns. “Suppose you’re a harmless demon. What brings you here, Quin?”

He gestured at the demon corpse. “Tracking down this demon.”

“Really?” Lady drawled, clearly still suspicious.

Quin sighed and looked between them. “I’ve been discovered at the wrong place at the wrong time. I haven’t tried attacking either of you, have I?”

Nero crossed his arms and thought about the note on the Devil May Cry doors last night. Maybe it really was just a hoax? He also didn’t like how his demon kept wanting to trust Quin, but following the voice had kept him out of harm for the most part so he supposed he’d trust it this time, too.

“If I really wanted to hurt you, Nero, I could have just hurt Kyrie.”

Nero growled, but knew he had a point. Lady adjusted the strap of Kalina Ann and said to Quin, “How about we let you go, as long as you leave the city?”

Quin shrugged. “I got what I came for, though I will probably tour the city for at least a day or two.” He got up and leaned out the broken window. Nero exchanged a glance with Lady and neither decided to stop the demon.

“It was a pleasure meeting you both. Goodbye,” he waved as he jumped out.

Nero scratched at his Devil Bringer with irritation as the voice in his head was suddenly restless again. What the hell did it want? To follow Quin? It felt as if something was just out of reach of the grasp of his mind, and he stared blankly at the glass panes scattered on the bloodied floor. Why was his demon reaching out to Quin? He snapped out of his thoughts as Lady walked over to the demon corpse that was quickly dissolving into ash. “Well, then… I guess we’re done here.”

Half an hour later, Nero was waiting outside a small courthouse while Lady sorted out things with the client. He couldn’t stop thinking about their encounter with that demon, _Quin_. Why did he seem almost familiar? 

Lady stomped out of the double doors and down the front steps. “They’re giving us half of the amount now and the rest in a week when they get construction underway,” she said irritably. “They wanted proof, but that doesn’t really work out when demon bodies vanish.”

Nero followed after Lady and asked, “What about that other demon, Quin?”

“What about him?” she responded without looking back.

“I mean… should we do something about him?”

She snorted and crossed her arms as she walked under a bus stop. “Unless you can sense him around, there’s not much we can do right now.” She leaned back against the wall and stared at him. “What do you think about him?”

Nero shrugged and avoided her gaze. His demon side seemed to be drawn to him like a puppy for whatever reason. “Don’t know. He doesn’t seem… bad?” To be fair, they hadn’t really seen him do anything. He could have really just been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Maybe, but I don’t trust him.”

“What? But you let him go.”

“So did you,” Lady said with an eyebrow raised. “Anyway, I’ll give my colleague a call. There’s a one in a million chance that guy’s not actually like every demon, but if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll get out of town. Otherwise I’ll probably shoot him the next time I see him.”

The bus came into view and Nero didn’t say a word while the demon in the back of his mind growled at Lady’s threat. Why the hell was his demon so fixated on Quin? As they rode back to the heart of the city and the buildings grew taller and more packed, Nero realized they hadn’t actually gotten to fight anything. Great, he didn’t get to burn off his frustration and now his demon was even more annoying. 

He was surprised when Lady followed him out of the station. “You’re going to the shop?”

“Yeah. Dante owes me.”

Nero had learned to not question exactly how much money Dante owed Lady or why. He wondered if anyone actually knew.

“What are _you_ going there for?” Lady said with a small smirk.

“See if there’s any jobs. Also I live there now… Why?”

“Oh… Okay then.”

“Wait, what did you think I was going for?” Nero asked with confusion and not liking the mischievous gleam in Lady’s eyes.

“Nothin’,” she said and quickened her pace.

Lady slammed the front doors of the shop open and called out loud, “Pay up, Dante! Oh, for fuck’s sake…” There were beer cans and pizza boxes scattered around the desk where the red devil hunter usually took his nap. Nero snorted in amusement and peered in the boxes to see if there were any leftovers. “Dante! Hey!” Lady shouted by his ear and finally kicked his chair over. Impressively, he stayed in it all the way crashing to the floor.

Nero watched as Dante blinked owlishly and stood up to stretch while Lady ranted about his lazy ass and the state of the shop. He didn’t seem to be listening at all as he kicked his chair back upright and slouched into it. With a distracted nod, he looked up at Nero. “Anything new with you kid-- Ow!”

Nero’s eyes widened as Lady shot Dante without hesitation. Her cheeks were flushed with anger under her shades. “Do you ever listen?”

“Aw, I just got this cleaned,” Dante mumbled as he dug the bullet out of his shoulder and frowned at the fresh hole in his beloved red coat.

Nero managed to find an untouched pizza slice and munched it slowly as he watched Lady’s rising temper at an unresponsive Dante. The ring of the rotary phone cut them both short and Dante held up a finger as he picked it up. “Devil May Cry. Yeah, you’re in luck,” he said as he held out the receiver to Lady who gave him an impatient look. She huffed and took it when Dante simply shrugged. 

“Hello? Oh, hey, I was going to call you earlier, but my phone was dead.”

Nero got up from the couch and came up to the desk. “Got any new jobs?”

“Nope. How was yours?”

He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he wanted to reveal all the details of his encounter. “It was… lame,” he said, technically not lying. “Definitely could have used a workout. Feel like I’m collecting dust…” He trailed off as he picked up on snippets of Lady’s conversation.

“Quin? Long dark hair, human looking, got this air of someone out of time? Ran into him this morning actually.”

Dante followed his gaze without lifting his chin from the palm of his hand. “New friend in town?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Nero shrugged. “We ran into a demon that didn’t try to kill us.” It didn’t seem to intrigue Dante at all so he asked if friendly demons were common around Capulet City.

“There’s been a few… maybe one… Well, it’s usually pretty obvious who’s a threat and who’s not.”

Nero leaned against the desk with his arms crossed. He wasn’t so sure about that. He didn’t know what to think of Quin other than his demonic side wouldn’t shut up about him.

“Not sure if he’s still around, but sure. I’ll keep an eye out.” Lady finished her conversation and turned to Nero. “Well, looks like our friendly neighborhood demon can be trusted, supposedly. And before I forget, here’s your half.” She took out a wad of bills from her white jacket and handed it to him.

“Oh, thanks.”

“You split _half_ with the kid?” Dante asked indignantly.

Lady shrugged. “Yeah, I did. Be good Nero and don’t pick up on his bad habits,” she said and ruffled Nero’s hair before leaving. Nero blushed as he straightened out his hair. Was there some hazing memo to treat him like a kid? He glanced over at Dante who had taken out a tub of strawberry ice cream from the fridge and was eating it at his desk.

“Where were you all night?”

“Aw, miss me?”

Nero rolled his eyes as he opened a can of soda and picked up another slice of pizza. “Not really. Had a peaceful night for once,” he lied. “Were you on a job the whole time?” 

“Yeah. Had to take out a whole nest of arachne. More trouble than it was worth. At least I got paid something this time.”

Nero hummed and chewed slowly as he considered taking the opportunity to talk to Dante about his demonic side acting weird. He didn’t have anyone else to ask anyway.

“So, I was going to ask…”

“For a date?” Dante said around a spoonful of ice cream.

Nero stopped chewing and wrinkled his nose in disgust, taken aback. “Nevermind.”

“I’m kidding! Geez,” Dante laughed. “What were you gonna ask?”

“Nevermind!”

“Aw, come on. Loosen up, kid!”

Nero had half a mind to drop the subject and glared at him as Dante continued to eat his ice cream unperturbed. “Since you’re also half demon and half human, I was going to ask if your demon side… I don’t know, kind of has a voice or something?” As he spoke he was realizing how ridiculous he was sounding.

“I’m not a psychiatrist.”

“Just-- Do you know what I’m talking about or not?”

Dante rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a smirk slowly crossing his face. “Yeah, maybe.”

“What’s with that look?”

“Nothing. So you’re hearing voices in your head? What do they say?”

“I don’t know, it’s not really a voice. More like…”

“A presence?”

“Yeah. How do you deal with it?”

Dante shrugged. “You get used to it. Kind of just becomes white noise in the background.”

“It’s been really damn annoying lately…” He muttered as he picked up another slice of pizza and bit into it. When he looked back up again, Dante was staring at him with scrutinizing eyes. “What?”

“When did you discover your demon powers?”

Nero frowned and chewed slowly, unsure how to answer that. Ever since he was a child, he was always a bit different, always rather strong for his age and more in-tune with potentially dangerous situations. “You mean like my Devil Trigger, or my arm? It all happened in the past few years. Why, what?” He wasn’t sure he liked the way Dante’s eyes narrowed, like he was adding something up.

“You might be hitting demon puberty.”

Nero choked and hastily took a drink from his soda. “What the fuck? Are you shitting me?”

“I’m serious,” Dante snickered. “Had any weird wet dreams lately?”

Nero’s demon side suddenly stirred, and the fragments of his dream from last night clicked together. He flushed and snapped angrily, “As if I’d tell you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Fuck off!” He snarled and threw out a punch with Devil Bringer. Dante ducked out of the way and laughed as he got up and headed to the kitchen with his tub of ice cream.

If not for the food and his growling stomach, Nero would have gone after him. The old man could not be serious. He had already gone through puberty, for fuck’s sake! He didn’t need his demon side interrupting his life with horny complaints. Chomping down on his pizza, he glared in the direction of the kitchen, waiting until Dante came out again with a beer in hand.

“What am I supposed to do about this?” Nero said with a frustrated sigh.

“Hm?”

“This demon puberty bullshit!”

Dante shrugged as he sipped his beer. “Eh, you’re only partially demon. Might not even affect you that much.”

Nero washed down his mouthful and sulked quietly, hoping Dante was right. Otherwise the embarrassing dreams and his demonic side’s weird fixations were going to make things really awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is important for me personally to stick to a schedule/routine for this fic. As a result this chapter may have been lackluster, and for that I apologize. Regardless, thank you so much for reading!


	5. Small Prices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I was going to update bi-weekly? Obviously, I have totally failed LOL. This chapter is more than two months late. I am so sorry T.T I still want to be updating on a schedule, but at this point I will not promise anything. As of writing this, I am juggling several WIPs. If it helps, I talk about posts and updates on my twitter: [ChoklettHartz](https://twitter.com/ChoklettHartz) (warning for nsfw on that account though)
> 
> Looking for a beta reader! I'm not confident with formatting and grammar, so any feedback is greatly appreciated.

Breathe in. Breathe out. The constant meditative routine Quin followed all his life wasn’t working. A low frustrated growl rumbled from his throat as he brought his knee to his chest and scratched at his scarred mate mark absentmindedly. He was sitting on one of the many fancy sofas in a suite of Montague Hotel, just out of reach of the singular soft light from the kitchen. The television was on, ignored static in the background, its blue glow swallowed by the shadows. His gaze drifted to the large windows that overlooked the hazy night sky stretching across the twinkling Capulet City below. 

The events of the day played through his head over and over. White hair and blue eyes too much like Sparda’s human form, and Vergil’s presence. It was faint, but he felt it without a doubt. Cassius did not lie. Somehow, a fragment of Vergil’s soul had latched onto Nero. He wanted to talk with the boy, but he said… Nero was told that a demon was hunting him? If Cassius was trying to set something up, it worked. The idea that the devil lord already had spies about was disconcerting to say the least. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

When he was able to get away from that abandoned school building, he had stayed in a dark alley. For a long time he simply tried to get his thoughts in order and breathe through his hammering heart. These days, his heart beat wildly, sporadically. He could have Vergil back. His blood pounded in his ears just thinking the words in his head, chest twisting like thorns were being pulled through him. He rested his head on his knee, every breath painful. The echoes of his severed mate bond still haunted him, his soul forever torn.

It was frustrating, letting his emotions get the better of him. He needed to focus, but memories washed over him unbidden. Violent waves throwing him against the jagged cliffs that was his reality. He didn’t want to think about it, that voice always clear and reaching to him. It was foolish to dwell on these things when he knew better. But in these moments when it was so cold, he felt the vestiges of embraces from a lifetime ago. Arms around him when he least expected it. Icy blue eyes melted in the faintest smile. 

Quin dug his sharp nails into the scar, tearing the skin. Tremors ran through his body, blood blooming into his clothes without care. A small light burst on the cushion beside him, pulling him from his thoughts. His phone. The screen indicated a text from Lisa. Probably also had messages from Michael and Angela. Quin glanced at it for a moment before lying down on his side and curling up away from it.

He felt the weight of his locket slide across his neck. It was made of a silvery metal derived from gilgamesh and was sealed with a simple magic enchantment that Quin had not broken in a while. He turned it over in his hands and, after hesitating for a while, opened it. Inside it was a piece of high grade paper from his usual collection, riddled with creases. Gingerly, he took it out and unfolded it. The black ink was still vivid, bled into the veins of the paper, one of the few relics that assured him his time with Vergil was real.

> _Quin,  
>  _
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _I’ve decided not to return here until I’ve found you. Contact me if you’re reading this._  
> 
> 
> _-Vergil_

Quin curled up tighter at the pain blooming in his chest as he read the words over and over again. “Come back,” he whispered under his breath, a recurring unanswered prayer. He had found the note in the locked drawer of the desk in their room. There was one older note in the wastebasket, and probably at least a few others he would never know about. 

He tucked away the note and cradled the locket in his hands, shutting his eyes from his surroundings and the world. He wanted him back. He wanted their life back. Again and again these desperate wishes tormented him every night. 

Sleep did not find him, and while his eyes were closed and his breath steady, he was fully aware of the hours ticking by. As the sun rose, so did he. Quin sighed, feeling exhausted. Crossing his legs, he focused on meditating. He would be walking into the lair of a devil-lord soon, and that required him to have a clear mind and sharp wits.

Once he was able to tuck away the burdensome feelings, he checked through his phone and briefly replied to the messages from Lisa, Michael, and Angela. Just simple hellos and a picture from Michael of an art project that looked like a pile of recycled cans. It was cute. He made a mental note to call them sometime soon.

After strapping his jian to his side and putting on his overcoat, he set out for Cassius’s stronghold. The devil lord had left him an address on a napkin back when he met him in Fortuna. The location wasn’t too far from Capulet city, leading to an antique shop of a small town in the mountains. From there, he followed a trail of demonic energy to a construction site with an elevator shaft. The human pretenses persisted even as he took the lift all the way down to what looked like a human male security guard waiting for him. Quin could sense the demonic energy clear as if there were no glamour at all. 

Without a word, the guard led him down a carved out stone passageway. Their steps echoed down the tunnel that dipped and rose, shadows growing and shrinking with every passing fluorescent light that was embedded in the ceiling like glowing eggs. And with every step, Quin sensed the concentration of demonic energy grow. There was quite a large gathering ahead of the long tunnel, likely in the heart of the mountain nearby. 

The farther they walked, the more intricate the walls became, painted and gilded. Quin noticed inscriptions among the decor, actual incantations, but sensed no magic spells weaved there. So did Cassius just want to show off how nicely the scripts looked without actually putting in the effort of making functional magic spells? He wasn’t sure how to gauge Cassius, who was rather cautious for a high-rank devil. Even back in the day serving Mundus, Quin noticed that he never tried to stand out amongst other generals and rarely brought attention to himself.

The lighting changed to torches along the walls as they went through a shimmering magic barrier that led to a large open room from which various other paths connected. The guard kept walking straight ahead, and Quin followed as he glanced around at the demons who were spread around the space chatting, arguing, gearing up to fight each other, sharpening claws and fangs, drinking, or eating. Some looked his way curiously, probably unable to detect his demonic presence through his glamour, and wondering what a human was doing down here. 

They continued down a single corridor, passing by several other branching ones until finally, they reached a set of gilded double doors which was guarded by two demons. They opened into a large circular office that was lined with classic paintings and bookshelves. It was a surprisingly very “human-like” setting. Cassius was sitting at a desk which stood at the very center of the room on an intricately patterned rug. Flames crackled in a stone fireplace behind him. The devil lord looked up and smiled before waving the guard away. Just like in Fortuna, Quin observed the acidic green eyes, combed blonde hair, grey suite, seemingly human but unnatural.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Cassius said in a warm rumbling voice as he stood and spread his arms.

“More like an ant’s nest,” Quin said with a small smile as he took his time looking around the room. There were many books in particular on magic and human history, and some of the jars contained rare magic components. Finally, he met Cassius’s gaze. “You really need all those tunnels?”

“I find it best to provide ample space for my underlings.”

Quin took a few steps around the room. “You’re raising quite the army then. Must have taken a long time to dig out all of this.”

“It’s a work in progress. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs in front of the desk and turned to a sleek dark cabinet that stood beside a tall bookshelf. “Would you like a drink?”

“Wine,” Quin replied as he sat down and leaned back, perfectly at ease.

Within the stronghold, Quin sensed demons of many kinds and many ranks. There were likely more than what he’d seen so far. For a flicker of a moment he thought he felt something or someone familiar, but was distracted when Cassius spoke again as he came back with a bottle of vintage wine.

“It’s good to see you again. I take it you’re here to discuss the proposal I had made in Fortuna?” He poured the liquor in two beautifully cut glasses, offered one to Quin, and sat down behind his desk.

“Something like that,” Quin said as he raised the glass to his lips, sniffing it discreetly before taking a sip. “Plum and Hell Berries?” It was brewed from a mix of fruit from the human and demon realms. Not a bad blend. 

“Yes,” Cassius said with a smile.

“Brewed it yourself?”

“No, no,” he said with a little laugh. “I was lucky to get my hands on it.”

Quin nodded and gave his wine a little swirl. “We didn’t get to talk very much last time, and a few things have been on my mind.”

“Is that so?” Cassius wondered with a curious expression and gestured for Quin to continue.

“You were expecting me in Fortuna.”

“Not quite ‘expecting’. But I did hope you would visit there.”

“And you waited each day and night?” Quin said in a disbelieving voice. “I’m touched.”

“Ahaha, no, I am sorry to say. I only left one or two scouts to keep an eye out.”

“Did they know what they were looking for?” 

Few living demons had ever seen Quin’s human form and even fewer knew his identity. He wondered if Cassius had known his appearance beforehand, or if he had sensed him through his glamour. Perhaps he had underlings who specialized in sensory magic. He also wondered if they had known about the Athame, or simply sought out strong energies.

“Not quite,” Cassius replied. “But it’s not hard to spot an odd one out in that town.”

“That is true. And you expected I would go to Capulet City afterwards?”

“I expected you would be interested enough to act. I assume you would not be here if you had not met Nero?”

Quin watched him carefully, observing how Cassius’s hands were folded gently and keen interest gleamed in his eyes. Did he not set up that encounter in the abandoned school? “Have you met him? He’s quite nice.”

“I have not, though I’ve heard about him.”

“Hm, you’ve heard of many things,” Quin said. Cassius simply smiled.

“Naturally. So, you’ve met Nero, and you’ve surely sensed the fragment of Vergil’s soul.”

Quin turned the wine glass in his hand as he regarded Cassius with a cool look. “Another expectation of yours?”

“Just a guess. His presence is faint, isn’t it?”

It was. It wouldn’t be long before Vergil faded. This deal might be his only chance. Cassius knew this, and Quin held back the urge to tear off that smug face. Instead, Quin’s lips quirked in a half smile. “Oh, it was quite prevalent actually.”

Cassius’s smile faltered and his eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“I’m joking,” Quin said with a cold little laugh. For a brief moment, a dark look passed over Cassius’s expression before he composed himself again and cleared his throat.

“Anything else that might be bothering you?” Cassius asked in a patient tone, chest puffing as he drew in a breath. Quin hummed as he set down the glass and crossed his legs casually, hands folded in his lap. The greed in those eyes shone like grease catching light. Just how long had this devil lord pined for his lost power?

“Not really, no. So. The Weapons of the Four Horsemen. Did you ever consider obtaining just one?” Quin asked lightly.

“Each is powerful in its own right, but I’ll need all of them if I am to return to the demon realm with the intention of ruling.”

There it was again. He had heard this similar story before. Quin observed every little movement and inflection, fully expecting lies and half truths. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“I would like you to obtain the devil arms and give them to me. In return, I will bring back Vergil. It is a complicated ritual, but I will gather all the necessary components to save you that trouble.”

“Except the soul. You want me to get that part myself, correct?”

“You would likely have a better chance than me at getting closer to Nero.”

Quin smiled wryly and rested his chin in his hand. “So theoretically, I have to find five very powerful devil arms- the First Horseman has two as you know- and go through the trouble of luring a rather powerful hybrid to his death while you collect some other materials. My weight seems a bit heavier in this deal.”

Cassius bowed his head as if in a rueful gesture. “I’d be more than happy to help wherever I can. I have a wide network of informants that you can use.”

“A kind offer, but it’s best to keep those informants hidden,” Quin said with a polite smile. If Cassius intended to plant spies on him, it would not work. Quin would find them. And if the devil lord understood what was best for him, he would realize this fact, too. “I suppose that is one way of helping, just let me work efficiently without disturbances.”

“As you wish.”

Green eyes glittered with eagerness and ambition. Quin doubted it was so straightforward. He took another sip of the wine, tasting it for a few seconds before swallowing and speaking again.

“Let’s say you obtain all the artifacts. What’s the next step in your plan?”

“If you’re worried about mankind, I have no interest in them,” Cassius said with a smile, those far too white teeth flashing again.

“You know that is very hard to believe. It is rather natural for our kind to hunt humans.”

“I know there’s little I can say to ease your suspicions. My home was always in the demon realm. Even in Mundus’s reign, I had shared very little interest in his ambition for conquest. I’m sure you know a number of us merely followed him for better chances at survival.”

True. Better chances at survival was the one goal Quin had for a long time. For him, Sparda, Meris, Carina, and Mauvent. Quin gave a little smirk and said softly, “Fear or loyalty. Both very strong motivators.” Which one did Cassius prefer? The devil lord simply chuckled.

“Well, then. We can discuss further details, but I’d like to make sure we’re on the same page.” Cassius folded his hands and regarded Quin with a polite smile, eyes searching though Quin would give him nothing.

His purpose for living had always been simple. Survive and protect what mattered. Yet he had failed too many times, losing his pack members one by one until he was alone in the human world. And then there was Vergil who gave him the brightest moments of his life and his new meaning. If he didn’t take this chance now, the last fragment of Vergil’s soul would fade. Quin would never have him back. 

“Alright then,” Quin finally spoke. “I will give you the weapons of the Four Horsemen. In exchange, you will bring back Vergil for me.”

“Excellent. I believe we have a dea-”

“I’ll even throw in a small portal. Less messy than something like the Hellgate.” He would need to collect another set of demonic artifacts, but it was an insurance that would help him more than it would help Cassius.

“Very well. And mankind will be left undisturbed. You have my word,” he said with a smile and held out his hand.

Quin shook it with an equally polite smile. Cassius would not keep his word. 

After working out the details of the rituals and their agreements, Cassius stood and said with an air of haughtiness, “You’ll be relieved to know your burden won’t be quite so heavy.” He continued when Quin only cocked an eyebrow. “I believe I am quite close to obtaining one of the devil arms. This way, please.” Quin’s gaze narrowed, but he followed Cassius.

He was led down a passageway that tunneled deep into the foot of the mountain. The roughly cut walls were lined with torches that cast dark watchful shadows. As they walked, Quin sensed a growing demonic presence that he recognized. It was like liquid rage giving off a potent odor. At the end of the corridor was a wrought iron door framed by painted demonic incantations which glowed red as a beastly roar echoed from within. 

Cassius waved a hand over the door, murmuring a spell until the door unlocked with a click. He opened it and beckoned Quin with a bow. Despite the heavy demonic energy and tremor-inducing roars, Quin walked through the doorway into a large tall cavern. At the center of the round room was a snarling minotaur cuffed and chained to the ground where more magic circles were drawn. Spittle flew from its mouth as it howled with rage. The demonic power he sensed was not from the beast, but the devil arm that had latched onto it like a parasite, just as he had intended.

“I must say,” Cassius drawled as he stood beside Quin. “I am quite impressed at your method of sealing. I thought like most other sealed artifacts and devil arms, that the weapons of the Four Horsemen were locked away in some discrete location. Imagine the frustration I felt when I had sent minions across the realms, scouring every inch for the slightest trace only to remain empty handed.” 

Cassius walked in a wide perimeter around the minotaur, peering at the glowing magic circles and nodding at their effectiveness in keeping the minotaur bound. “And then by some… miracle,” he chuckled at the word. “One of my demons here, this poor minotaur, found the Blood Sword of the Second Horseman and returned to me in a fit of rage. I lost many good demons in subduing him.” He waved his hand dismissively, and Quin wondered how many expendable underlings he had. 

Cassius nearly came around full circle and gave Quin a look of admiration. “I was confused until upon further inspection I realized how you sealed away these powerful devil arms. Clever. And cruel.”

“Of course,” Quin said plainly. He knew back then how devastating the devil arms could be. And so he sealed them within the souls of other demons, making the devil arms into something like parasites. When its host was killed, it would latch onto the soul of the killer, and yet its power could never be used this way. Only when the cursed seal was broken and the devil arm free of any soul could its power be used. And the only way to break the cursed seal was with the Athame and Quin’s blood.

Cassius raised his hands. “Perhaps you can show me how it’s done.”

Quin smiled wryly and paced around the possessed minotaur. He didn’t know all the side effects. From what he could tell, sometimes the devil arms manifested certain dispositions. Other times it got along well with its host and didn’t cause much trouble aside from an occasional migraine. 

“I’m impressed you’ve subdued it well,” Quin said as he knelt down and brushed a hand along the magic circles which shimmered. The shackles seemed to creak as the minotaur strained against them. A skilled magic weaver indeed, but not as good as Meris was. He wondered what was the extent of Cassius’s capabilities. Considering his offer, he was probably much better at necromancy than binding magic like this. 

He looked up over the minotaur once more. Extracting the devil arm would solidify his deal with Cassius. No take backs. Well, his mind was already made up before setting foot here.

Finally he rose and stood just out of range of the minotaur’s flying spittle. He stared into the clouded red eyes of fury and willed his power into a few ghostly white jian. The minotaur seemed to calm for a moment, caught by Quin’s steady gaze. Then it howled in pain when Quin sent the swords stabbing into its joints like pins holding down dissected skin. Blood dribbled to the stone floor as Quin walked forward and drew out the Athame, glancing at Cassius as he did so. The devil lord showed no sign of recognition, but Quin knew the traces of disturbance he found that night in the sealing place of the Athame was likely from one of his underlings. 

He uttered an incantation under his breath and drew the blade across his palm. The minotaur struggled fruitlessly against the binds, its blood beginning to sizzle on the floor as its wrath grew. Quin thrust the dagger into the minotaur's chest. For a moment he could distinctly feel the soul of the demon and the will of the Blood Sword. He twisted the blade, focusing his own power into separating the two. The minotaur screamed in agony as Quin tore apart its soul. When he withdrew the athame, the beast's body was steaming as it disintegrated and a red sword materialized from its remains. Its screams were still echoing around the cavern as Quin gingerly picked up the sword. The blade glowed brightly, and he held it out to Cassius who had been watching in awe.

“Careful. It’s hot,” Quin said.

The guards by the door glanced at each other with uneasy looks. Acidic eyes full of greed, Cassius slowly took the sword and marveled at it. Quin watched him carefully. He was handing out considerable power to this devil lord. 

Cassius turned to him and bowed low. “I am grateful, Quintus. I hope this signifies the start of a great partnership between us.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Quin said coldly. “I want Vergil back. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course, of course. You have my word.”

“You’re lucky you found this one,” Quin nodded towards the Blood Sword. 

“Considering how you sealed these devil arms, am I right in assuming that you don’t know where the others might be?”

“You are correct. They’ve likely changed hosts by now.” He had sealed the Blood Sword, Cursed Scales, Bow and Crown of Conquest in different demons that likely had already been killed over the years. However, the Bell of Death was likely still with the same host that Quin had chosen for it. She had suffered little side effects and was markedly smarter than the other demons. She was the one that Quin had hoped to track down and resulted in his run in with Nero.

“I would be more than happy to assist in locating them,” Cassius offered.

Quin’s eyes narrowed at the display of generosity. “If you insist, help me with a spell.” 

“Of course. May I ask…”

“It’s for a bait. The hosts of the devil arms will be drawn to the athame.”

“Very well,” Cassius said with a nod. “This way.”

Quin was to another large cavern that was down a couple of halls and several stairs upwards. The walls were smoothed and etched with inscriptions meeting at an adjustable sky window at the very top of the domed ceiling. Some robed servants set up the spell as Quin required. He noted how some of them appeared to be humans turned demons. Their smell was distinct. Poor wretched things.

Quin knelt at the center of the circle and brought the Athame to his palm. It had absorbed all blood and was spotless. He sliced into his flesh again, letting his blood drip into the small well carved into the ground. Bringing the stained blade to his lips, he kissed it gently and whispered an incantation, focusing his energy as he did so. The blood in the small well took shape and stretched out like twisted vines hungry for sunlight. Then, it dissolved into a fine dust that disappeared into the air.

Though it was faint, Quin could feel the change in energy around him and knew it would ripple across the world. The devil arms would be drawn to the Athame now, and their hosts would follow subconsciously. It could be dangerous. Bystanders could very well get caught in the crossfire, but that was a small price to pay. He put the athame away under his coat, got up, and clapped the dust from his hands. “Now we just wait,” Quin said. “So, how do you propose we keep in contact?”

They made arrangements to meet once a month. Once all was said and done, Quin was escorted back out the way he came. He returned to Montague Hotel which was perched on a hill at the outskirts of Capulet City. It boasted five stars and was highly regarded for its security and customer service. The atmosphere was generally quiet and decorated in palace-like themes. 

In one of its high class suites on the twentieth floor, Quin tossed his coat on an armchair that was laden with books. Much of the posh furniture had been pushed to the sides of the room, giving him plenty of floor space to work with. Though he committed most of his magic knowledge to memory, he would still carry around a few notebooks full of diagrams and notations on materials and such. There were some cooking recipes, too. 

Quin sat on the floor and leaned back against a sofa, watching the golden light of sunset travel up the walls into the shadows. There was much to do. He would have to get close to Nero in addition to devil arm hunting. From what he could tell, the young hybrid was already with Dante and friends. That would be the real hassle. He wasn’t sure if he could go near Dante yet without feeling the urge to rip his throat out. 

Though it was years ago, Quin could still remember like it was yesterday: waking up on the remains of Mallet Island and learning that Dante had defeated Mundus and killed Vergil in the process. It didn’t matter whether or not Dante had recognized his brother. He killed him. Quin could never let that go. It was a pity that Vergil’s soul fragment hadn’t latched onto Dante. Quin would gladly trade his life without a second thought. But instead, Nero had been the lucky winner. 

As unfortunate as it was for the young hybrid, it didn’t matter to Quin. He’d have Vergil back. A few lives, this boy, Dante’s wrath- these were small prices. Even if he had to destroy the whole world, that would still be a small price. Well, maybe just half the world. He wouldn’t want to completely ruin his old friend’s work.

Quin took a deep breath, closed his eyes, breathed out, and opened them again. He got up to light a few scented candles and incense around the suite. Then, he sat before the coffee table and wrote down a list of all the materials Cassius had listed. It all checked out, made sense. Quin listed out the other potential spells and didn’t find much cause for concern, but if Cassius was planning anything under the table, it wouldn’t be so obvious anyway.

Though Quin had essentially handed over considerable power to Cassius, it was best to recover his own devil sword, Kaguya, in case anything went wrong. Just before he came to the human world, he sealed it in a space within purgatory. It was the small portal he had offered to Cassius. He would have to recollect the three keys to it in addition to the devil arms of the other three Horsemen. A bit of a hassle, but doable.

He sorted through his belongings and found a small omamori charm from Baigu, the sister of the demon who hosted the Death Bell. Quin had kept the token of affection over many centuries in case he needed a favor. Carefully, he tugged the threads loose and opened it to reveal a paper talisman and white powdered bone. He ran his thumb across one of his fangs to drip a bit of blood onto the powder and talisman. With a short incantation, a glowing beetle crawled from the powder. It shook its wings and took flight out through the window. More waiting.

Quin sat down beside the coffee table again. He breathed steadily, focusing on his energy, reaching deep down for the connection to his familiar. The undead cat responded, an echo of a gentle rattling purr that indicated no disturbances. He wasn’t too worried. The Magatama, Meris’s protective charms, and his own spells left Michael and Angela quite safe. Not wanting to involve them, he would leave the Magatama last. 

The Serpent Blade was another of the trio, sealed in the void space between realms. That would require a more complicated spell. And finally, the Truth Mirror was in the human world, probably the easiest and least messy to obtain. Though it was sealed by his own magic, he had to focus and comb through all the energy flowing for miles in radius to find it. 

There was much work to do, many pieces to gather and put in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


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